Let's do the Test Drive Again

[wolof]

I. BEARING FRUIT (NEW CHARACTERS ONLY)

It starts out as a pleasant dream. You’re in your favorite place, with your favorite people. It’s a moment of idyllic comfort.

And then, it goes wrong.

The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.

So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—

You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.

I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.

You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.

The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.

From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.

And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.

II. BOUGH-BREAKER, ROOT-QUAKER

There are new Shard-Bearers at the Tree of Life, and Yima has asked that their elders return to the Tree to greet them, to bring them forth and answer their questions. She warns that it will be unlike the last time, for the Dryad's presence has gone -- the root-caverns of the Tree are damaged, the previous actions of some of the Shard-Bearers have left it injured, blackened by ill intent. Be careful, Commune where you must, but be aware that the Tree has reacted to its injury and will seek out the space within your Communions to make its agonies known.

All will experience the consequences to the actions of the few.

Whether awakening within or descending once more into the cavernous, root layer of the Tree of life is precarious; passages are maze-like, with claustrophobic squeezes and sudden chasms. Worse yet, is the miasma that hovers in the atmosphere. It leaches into your eyes, your skin, the space below your fingernails and drags through your lungs with every inhalation. Images of explosions, of fire and the sensation of shrapnel tearing through you begin to spark like fireworks within your mind. The pain builds, souring as it does.

The ambiance here is revolting. Great chasms have opened in the environment, threatening to pour inattentive Shard-Bearers into the Tree's deeper underbelly. The cloying, dark vapors around everyone dull the senses, until those you may have entered with are gone, or perhaps new bodies have joined you in the rancid space. The miasma urges you towards your baser desires, your desperate violence, and even as the Tree's pain evokes a sense of desperate self-defense, your Shard warms upon your body.

Somehow, the Tree still seeks to Commune with all -- pressing its need upon you: a single flame. A roaring pyre. A chilled ember.

THE GAME IS AFOOT

The Tree of Life cannot communicate but in abstract images and sounds, but the general gist of its need is eventually grasped by all Shard-Bearers: the miasma present is the result of an attack upon the Dryad that once lived among the roots of the Tree. Actions taken by other Shard-Bearers have left the Tree in dire straits, deeply wounded and unable to prevent itself from naturally lashing out in its own defense as it dies. It cannot let go of those it has imprisoned, until they have revealed their nature to it - until it knows it can finally, finally let go.

Characters can decide amongst themselves how to deal with the threat of miasma. It's easy to figure out, as your shards will naturally want to absorb what's similar to discord within your shards, but just like with discord, holding hands, or joining together in some way will allow the pain to be shared amongst everyone in the group. There's no such thing as failure, but if a character decides for the group, there may be the opportunity for intervention…

• Characters may choose to take on the role of a martyr, accepting the Tree's miasma ( its pain ) upon themselves as the sole sufferant. They will experience excruciating pain and lasting effects, but will spare others from this trauma.
• Characters may also choose to share the pain among themselves, though doing so will require Communion to be shared between all parties -- this will result in the temporary collapse of boundaries and barricades, and emotions and memories may flow against their will into others.
• Characters may also decide to do nothing at all, whereupon their decision to take no action will result in the miasma growing stronger, denser and more cloying until they are rendered unconscious and ejected from the roots of the tree.
• Have you a choice unique to your character that wasn't mentioned? Might you try to heal the tree's pain, or perhaps harm it further? If you're making the attempt, make sure your group is aware and submit your record of action to the link included below!

This can be done in groups of 2 to 4 players, and three is a recommendation - if you can swing it! It’s more fun when you get into philosophical debates, right? Regardless, when your group comes to a decision, please record it here. These don’t have to be fully threaded out to be recorded, so the conclusion can be discussed OOC if you prefer. Actions can be submitted until JANUARY 9TH, after which a tally will be taken of decision and filed away for later, devious uses.

III. TWO CITIES, ALIKE IN DIGNITY BUT WE ALL KNOW YIMOMMY'S WHERE IT'S AT

Having just celebrated the dual-natured festivities known as the Year's End Festival and Qiasu, Springstar and Highstorm ( respectively ) are wrapping up the period of time where Kenos a celebrates unity and togetherness, coming together with friends and family, to be kind to others and share in one’s wealth - whether that comes in the form of knowledge, monetary gains, or the exchange of gifts and one’s time. While the core festivities are over, many of the residents of Kenos are still caught up in the celebratory mood; those who are not, have begun to fret and whisper about a rumor that has spread throughout both cities.

( Many more residents are attempting to get rid of their excess stock, and may attempt to pawn off kitschy goods and, strangely, unclaimed gifts for people they claim they have no memory of, or simply do not exist. )

With the new Shard-Bearers present or en route, it is Kathova and Cetina that approach the established ones, requesting that they form mentorships with the new souls to assist them with the integration process. To this end, they have both provided a centralized zone in both Highstorm and Springstar for a small, casual meet-and-greet to be held before the new Shard-Bearers are unleashed upon Kenos as a whole.

Additionally, as Springstar and Highstorm are holding their events on different days, it is possible for the knowledge-hungry to participate in both informational sessions -- the tones and opinions held by both cities are doubtless to differ, and some Shard-Bearers who have chosen to harmonize with either faction may even find their way to the opposing faction's session as well. After all, the year's end is still lingering in the air, and cooperation is the current name of the game.

SPRINGSTAR, αιώνιος ήλιος

In Springstar, the seat of the Tribune becomes available for such a forum. While a section of the building itself has been reserved for the meeting between fresh faces and experienced Shard-Bearers alike, the hustle and bustle of Heliopolis continues around them -- acolytes still gather their robes and tomes, hurrying from their quarters to lessons. A score of young militants march in step across the yard to the training grounds.

Tables draped in white-and-gold-trimmed fabrics fare filled with fare common to Springstar's warmer climate -- fruits and wines, savory smoked meats and roasted vegetables, a series of meze platters and souvlaki skewers have been lain out to encourage forum participants to snack as they speak. The atmosphere is light, ambient with informality and friendliness, though topics will inevitably stray towards philosophic, Springstar's meeting grounds are decorated with handsome chaise lounges and slouching klismos chairs in small, intimate groupings.

HIGHSTORM, луны-близнецы

Eternally in opposition, Highstorm provides the Manor's courtyard as the setting for their informational meeting. Here, formality is of utmost importance, with attending Zenith loyalists and residents dressed in beautiful, albeit austere attire -- they are, after all, standing before Lady Yima's home. A buffet-style luncheon is spread alongside one of the largest reflecting pools, wherein you may gaze and find your memories revealed in retrospect upon the water's surface.

There are few places to be seated in the Manor's courtyard, resulting in a milling of bodies as they flow and ebb between smaller gatherings, clustering in small-to-large groups with small platters and shimmering flutes of drink held in their hands.

RUMOR MILL

In both locations information passes between all in a forum, spread and disseminated among the masses - it's a good opportunity for city residents, faction loyalists and interested new parties to share and share alike. Once the meet-and-greet has concluded, twin missives from both of the faction leads are read out -- invitations for all present to explore the cities to their heart's content, and warnings about stumbling ill-prepared ( or at all ) into the Below, or worse yet, the Beyond.

No matter how conversations between player characters go, everyone will walk away with the following knowledge to ensure new players do not feel "behind" in terms of what has previously happened on Kenos TV.

• Cyrus, the head of the Meridian faction is a native aristocrat of Springstar, who provides characters with an iliachtida, or sunbeam. This item tethers a character to their world, ensuring it does not fully disappear. His stance involves the idea that, using Meridian's light, worlds can be restored and you may return home.
• In contrast, the head of the Zenith faction is Yima, who has been the head of Highstorm since - arguably - its inception. She provides characters with a Shard of that they love most, to protect and hold. Yima believes former worlds to be lost, and looks to the future instead.
• While Harmonization occurs as the characters' Shard ( literally the manifestation of a character's soul! ) accrues the natural energies generated by Meridian or Zenith, Discord is also as natural an occurrence -- a symptom, in fact, of that process. Discord is best reduced by someone from the opposite faction, and is also influenced by the Aspect of one's character.
• Cyrus likes enchiladas.
• Many individuals recommend the following locations to new arrivals, as a means of enjoyment, involvement or further information-seeking: Highstorm's Court at Yima's Manor remains a great area for reflection and self-discovery, while the Tomes - a series of libraries - possess a magnitude of amassed knowledge, both foreign and relative to yourself. Heliopolis, the capital of Springstar, is the core of government and administration, and houses many avenues towards involvement in the goings-on of the city. Likewise, the Psychagogía District is the beating heart of entertainment within an island known for its passions.
• Rumors of past exploits linger on the lips of many. Did you know that one of Meridian's Harmonized slew one of Zenith's before the eyes of countless bystanders? That there was an expedition of Meri and Zenite Shard-Bearers dispatched to Alenroux, and some came back brutalized! Did you hear that the Shard of a Zenite is being held hostage by the Meridians?
• The new marking that has appeared upon your character's body is known as their sign of Aspect, and supposedly correlates to the fundamental truths of their soul. A Shard also exists, and is known as the characters' soul itself.

NOTES

Welcome to Kenos! As a reminder, all new players need an invite to play in the game, which are now open.

This log is Game Canon. Any characters who are not apped to the game will disappear. If Cyrus or Yima are asked, they’ll explain that this happens sometimes, since not every soul has a strong tether to Kenos and sometimes return to the Timestream. They’re fine and may even return to Kenos one day, but for now weren’t able to make the full journey.

As a reminder, your character has a Shard somewhere on their body that encompasses their soul, so keep note of where you're sticking it on their person for reference! Additionally, they have a tattoo of their Aspect somewhere on their body. Please be mindful this Aspect will be assigned to you upon approval and whatever you choose for the TDM may be temporary (for new characters)!

For the Highstorm and Springstar prompts, both cities will be fully open and accessible to all characters once they are saved from their rather harrowing ordeal at the Tree of Life. For prompt ideas and any general information about the cities and what you can find there, please see the Navigation page and check out the locations!

FOR NEW PLAYERS:

When characters emerge from their cocoon/the ground, characters may be wearing their normal clothes, or they might be nude. Up to you!

At some point in the days after leaving the Tree of Life, new Shard-Bearers will have a dream, even if they're usually not capable of sleeping. All new players should read this post, since this details how they'll learn about both factions and their goals and should help them make a decision in which Faction they'd be drawn to.

New characters will not have access to any canon abilities on the TDM.

Your character will be offered temporary housing either at the Heliopolis district or Yima's manor for the first few weeks after their arrival. They will also be given a stipend for basic supplies like clothing and personal effects, and food is served in the cantina (Heliopolis) and at regular meal times in the Dining Room (Yima's manor). Once they Harmonize, they will get personal permanent chambers and a fancy retainer in their Faction's city. Wow! 🌈

CODING

Comments

lord voryn dagoth | the elder scrolls iii: morrowind

[sharmat]

I. BEARING FRUIT

(long black hair is pulled out of the loam in fistfuls, and when his head is free and the rest of him follows, he kneels in the earth to bow. the panting and shaking eventually subside when fear of the unknown is replaced by deep anguish and deep anguish is replaced by righteous anger.

his fists strike the ground, then beat down again with an outcry.)

Fate! Fate is bitter! Curse them! Curse you!

(lord voryn dagoth, stripped of his house armour and enchantments and left only in tattered and tangled black-and-red robes, endures this humiliation. grey fingers dig into the dirt to raise it high until it's collected beneath his chin to be crushed there and moulded against his palms. this land is rich and not his own; there is no ash and no stacked stone pillars, and there are no foyadas with stronghold walls beyond them. he is lost, heart-sore, newly born and confused. worse still, while the many eyes of the celestials were judging him in his nothingness, his home was destroyed by liars, traitors, thieves.

voryn staggers drunkenly into a stand to wipe residue from his eyes and mouth. he does see the last push of suffocating men and women struggling for the surface, but ignores them jadedly until the fastest to emerge impresses him.)

Take my hand; I am weak, but it matters not. I will help you so that you will help me.

II. BOUGH-BREAKER, ROOT-QUAKER

Something ancient is impressing itself on my mind, (voryn addresses the shard-bearer nearest him. while he looks bothered, he doesn't sound it; the environment, while oppressive, is slow to affect him.

chimer lungs are accustomed to foul, suffocating air, and chimer spirits are accustomed to the hot brand of magic. despite this, communion is telepathy the likes of which he's never encountered and he finds himself vulnerable to its whispers. whatever it is, it's upset at the shard-bearer presence beneath the great tree. mistakenly relating to it dials up the discomfort and blinds him to reason.

voryn reaches out for the shard-bearer's shoulder, squeezing on contact. it grows tighter as they speak.) Leave us. This agony is none of your business, and what we need is something you're unable to provide.

(time to get seduced by the tree of life into embracing his yandere side and like... stroking it or smth...)

III. TWO CITIES, ALIKE IN DIGNITY

(he sits alone and reclined on a chaise lounge. the meet-and-greet happens adjacent to him, and he remains unmoved, busy leering at the crowd while occupying his hands with a twisted nail he received from a stranger pawning trash.

it shouldn't bother him, dead as his world is, but it does. he's jealous to see friends interacting without caution with friends. voryn understands it's his duty to network himself so that his time here goes smoothly, but bonding with another disgusts him.

if approached, voryn, in his grouchy mood, will address any shard-bearer like they're waitstaff:) Is this wine or water? It tastes dull, and its effectiveness is about the same.

(after some time has passed and the old asshole has had time to lighten up a bit, he asks a question at the banquet table:) When did you arrive? I would ask you something if you're knowledgeable about Springstar's food.

OBLIGATORY COMMUNION PROMPT

Seeking curtains.

(it's too fucking bright)

(hey cuties, hit me up with a wildcard if nothing strikes your fancy. i can be reached at frooting if you want to plot anything out or get a closed starter!)

communion.

[catfident]

[ bro? ]

Redecorating?

[sharmat]

(BRO)

I am not fond of extended daylight and wish to block what I'm able to while I rest.

The thicker the better, preferably ceiling-to-floor.

communion

[sterngaze]

[Now, here is an unfamiliar metaphorical face, if not an unfamiliar need. Liem recalls his dismay when, upon moving from Highstorm to Springstar some weeks ago, he’d discovered that the room he’d been provided was furnished with gauzy white curtains that dimmed Springstar’s oppressive daylight more than blocked it.

But then, he’d stayed in Highstorm for as long as he possibly could; he questions whether anyone similarly opposed to the sun would be living here so soon after arriving in Kenos.]

What kind? The range of styles on offer in this city is quite broad.

1/2

[sharmat]

Thick, tall and wide, with rope for tying them back when I wake and welcome the light.

The material used for bed chambers should always be dense like velvet and drape heavily to the floor. Dark reds, blacks, browns, and purples will suffice.

2/2

[sharmat]

(... hm...)

No, I've changed my mind; I don't care for purple.

two cities, alike in dignity o7 heyyyy froot

[hurricaneofblood]

[ Flamebringer is harassing people in his own way. He is dragging them into philosophical discussions of what he's learned in life from plants. His chats are odd enough that people politely excuse themselves.

But when he saunters along to find someone else to share in his blustering, he is mildly surprised at the tone of the other shard-bearer. It's not a tone that he's unfamiliar with, but is enough to give him pause. ]

Then you should drink more, or find something heartier. Might I suggest the blood of one's enemies?

SPINS YOU AROUND, HIII

[sharmat]

(for over three hundred years he's been wandering the surface of nirn, and he has experienced much, but a comment like this can still astonish him.

voryn, therefore, scoffs to hide his sick amusement. the blood of his enemies wouldn't be enough, though it may be a gratifying start. it's too bad they've all perished as a matter of course.)

Spare me. Unless you've come here to be my first, this wine is all that I have. Don't you think it's a pity?

slams in ( iii-ish )

[redsoil]

Let me have at it.

[ Though Voryn's intent is to address another as though they are a servant, it is with innate audacity that Set defies him the right.

His fingers close around the wine cup, plucking it directly from Voryn's fingers in order to tip it down his own throat. The throw of his head pours the bright curtain of his hair over a bare shoulder, the red of his own eyes closed as he takes down the whole rest of the drink. Easily so. He's been easy to spot, through the event, as he's been occupied by alcoholic beverages throughout the night; a pale creature adorned in gold, and as red as blood flowing from veins.

When he finishes, he tips the cup to one side and licks the taste from a sharp, prominent canine. Cat-like? Dog-like? It is distinctly bestial in form, and he cants his head as though savoring the meager taste. Maybe trying to see if it's enough to tip him over the edge into actual drunkkenness -- mm, not yet. He'll need more, he decides in silence. ]

No, it's not good at all. Likely thinned to ensure we do not lose our heads to the unsubtle-reminder that worlds are still, apparently, ending. You're a fresh face. Are you untempted and untaunted by choice so far, lovely miser?

[ Set smiles, syrupy-slow and unabashedly wild. ]

THE GALL

[sharmat]

(the conversationalist is pale and redheaded, beautiful but lacking grace. there is no bright dignity to find in him yet, not unless the man's pride is in his brutishness—if so, then voryn finds him and his stolen beverage blinding to look at. long-suffering, his eyes close at the sight of the tongue, then open again to scrutizine a grand, diverse city.

ugh.)

"Choice" is an illusion, but I shall not bore you with tired perspectives. We all know what we're doing here in Springstar; our homes are not gone, merely waiting. (voryn spends his pregnant pause motionless, fingers still poised from where they gripped the stem of his wine glass as though waiting for another to replace it.)

I am not ignorant of the risks inherent in entering a faction's service without careful screening. But I am thirsty.

(GARÇON. BRANDY.)

iii

[cutlery]

[ With new Shard-Bearers about, Sebastian in turn has made himself a bit of a busy-body. Well, more than usual. With each of the cities hosting their own versions of celebration for the newly arrived, he’s doing his best to be at both. He at least hardly minds the back and forth, but as such, it’s a bit after he’s spent time mingling in Highstorm that he ends up in Springstar. He definitely stands out in the crowd, since with the color palette of whites and golds, his preference for black is stark.

He heads to the table to see what’s on offer, though it’s not for himself. It’s absolutely just to be judgey about what they’re offering, don’t mind that, but it means it’s easy to catch his attention. As Voryn speaks to him, Sebastian looks up curiously, though the expression turns thoughtful. ]

My, let me see… I believe it has been eight-five days?

[ His tone sounds uncertain, but it’s not. He knows precisely, but that’s definitely a weird thing to just know… At least he has a reasonable justification for stating it in days rather than months, should it be asked. ]

But yes, I do indeed. What would you like to know?

[sharmat]

(when together, their saturninity is a smear, and though few passersby care to take a second look, there are a couple of springstar natives who admire the black and red. voryn, accustomed to eyes on him, focuses politely on sebastian who treats him with respect.)

Not long, then... (he sounds distracted. his eyes fall to the table where a utensil has been respectfully placed on the edge of his empty plate.

it's something voryn reminds himself to bring up again shortly.)

My coming here has made me nostalgic. I have been focusing on the things that are familiar to me but different in small ways. These eggs are small and the flavour is unexpected—what insect or animal lays them?

III.

[warmare]

[Hayame does not actually mean to approach him. She has not approached anyone, in the entire time she has been ostensibly attending this... "forum" in Springstar. She does not even do her fellow shardbearers the favor of pretending to be glad she is there. If there was ever a woman with a resting bitch face... it was her.

She is hear to listen in the hopes of hearing anything useful, and for the free food, not to put some fake smile on her face and pretend that anything about being stuck in this world with strangers and aliens pleases her.

Making her way back from the buffet table to her favored spot along the edge of the courtyard (one of the most defensible positions, it could be noted, with good line of sight and no doorways behind from which she might be surprised) is when Meridian's resident centaur encounters... some strange looking two-legged man on a chaise lounge. A not-quite-human-looking man on a chaise lounge who apparently either doesn't have manners or doesn't have eyes to see that she is not someone who cares about his drink experiences. Only one of her dark eyes is visible, the other hidden beneath a large leather patch, but just the one is enough to narrow before she pauses, her hooves loud on the stone flooring and her tray layered... high with foods, mostly meat.

... Is his drink wine or water?]

Do I look like I know the answer to that question?

[At seven feet tall and about a half ton in weight... she couldn't get drunk off liquor intended for humanoid consumption even if she tried. It's all dull.]

CW: SLAVE OWNERSHIP... I AM SO SORRY HE'S LIKE THIS...

[sharmat]

(beastfolk do not speak to him. beastfolk avoid his gaze, look down at the ground, nod, shake their head, or greet him, unanswered, with "my lord." the chimer people's slaves are little more than animals for they look the part, and to voryn dagoth, conditioned by his culture into keeping many of his own without thought or care, hayame's interjection is offensive. the strong revulsion for having been addressed by one without a respectful title forces his whole body to twist out of its restful lean.

but voryn considers himself smart. he is no longer home and recognizes that they are no longer his property. they walk in the streets as men and mer do; his belief is that their flagrant show of themselves should be kept behind closed doors. hayame is not waitstaff and he excuses himself for his own wicked error: an overlarge body more appropriately suited to building and farming would fit nowhere in this forum. so, she is not addressed or threatened—especially not without access to his magic in case of some barbaric attack on his person.

it's a pitiful compromise.

hayame and her meal are both assessed coldly.) No, you don't, (he answers. in what by itself would be an honest answer lies an intentional barb at her intelligence, cruel.

voryn expects her to leave now that they've completed their obligations to one another, lapsing into a brief silence that should allow her enough time to do so.)

I believe we've said all there is to be said.

II - It's a Tree-ap

[zauneyete]

[ This unusual type received a derisive scoff in response. He doesn't clarify which statement it is for. Is it because the tree should continue to suffer the lingering effects of the Dryad's death, or perhaps the range of explosions that had chorused through its labyrinthine roots? That destruction should remain, as if a lingering grasp from --

He tipped his head, as he looked at the root-like, gnarled piece in front of them. That he was back down here was one part a ridiculous, long-shot of hope, and then mere circumstance, but now he had to deal with other people, and while Silco was tempted -- so tempted to put an end to those down her, and leave -- they dared to exist here? That they were here and not --

His fingers moved from their careful, quiet trek toward his knife. No, he would not. He would not do that. ]

It's agony as you call it, is because it has deigned to make our lives difficult. Multiple times. That it's feeling the effects of its own actions isn't something to soothe.

[ Said the man with the curious dual-toned gaze and gloved hands. He speaks with authority, or some measure of it. Knowledge. ]

yeeHAW

[sharaska]

[ Sharp voices reverberate through his ears as if he were underwater, only distinguishable in the sense that their unfamiliarity piques an already triggered sense of self-defense. He's too self-aware and actively compartmentalizing for it to be shell shock, but the effects of a standard G60 stun grenade wouldn't last this long. Have the British improved it? He himself provided Russian intelligence with detailed design plans just a few years prior; it'd be too high an irony for it to have been modified and used against him now.

They're not useful assumptions to make when he has no idea where he is, but they keep an over-active mind running and intrusive emotions at a minimum.

In a rush, words suddenly play back in his head, far clearer now. ]

I think this "agony", gentlemen, is something that's all of our business whether we care for it or not. [ The one-eyed man to his right sure as hell seems to think so. Ocelot steps closer, bare feet sinking into dirt that streaks through silvery hair... and all over an equally unclothed body. I'm sorry, boys, he didn't choose to wake up naked but here we are. ]

One of you is claiming to know what it needs and the other one is claiming to know what it deserves. Now I'd suggest you both explain how you're in the know and what you're in the know about, so we can act accordingly.

III - TOO BAD YOU GET BOTH

[wolof]

[ The man looked... removed. Alone, and disparate from everyone else. It's a familiar sensation to the Praesi, something that she had long-felt, and while here in this world (and the last) she had quite the social circle, Akua Sahelian was nothing if not well known among the former Pleroma and Kenoma, as well as the Meridian here, she knew what it was to keep oneself away from others, carefully constructed, carefully built walls.

She approached, from somewhere off from behind him, curious if he would speak, or if he was one of the types that wouldn't. Not that she minded, she had often found that those who didn't had a great deal of power or capability, even if they hid it or restrained it from sight.

Was she already strategizing for the future? Of course she was. She may be Meridian (for now) but she intended to see this through -- she wondered if seeing Calerina again would be worth the price, but more than that -- She didn't want to see this land destroyed by the forces of oblivion like the last. When she was near, he'd already spoke up, perhaps to someone else -- there were plenty of servants -- about the quality of the wine.

From behind, said a voice: ] If you want something stronger, you need but ask. They keep the more potent fare outside of the formal gatherings. There's no need for drunkards causing issue upon first arrival, don't you think?

[ If he'd turned, he'd see a woman, dark skinned with her hair set in a complicated array of braids, pins and clips held it up, and there's one pin with an iliachtida to top it. Her hands folded over a dress that is far too low-cut, the shape of the space from her neck down to her midriff is the shape of a heart, and her smile is almost sharp -- the edges of a violent sharpness -- as she addressed him from behind. ]

CLAPS EXCITEDLY

[sharmat]

(what a sight. his immediate attraction to her lies in his appreciation of her obvious wealth and nobility, and she holds herself as well as any influential chimer woman of resdayn. there is the offputting matter of her heritage, non-elven and therefore lower in voryn's estimation, but today, he doesn't like anyone.)

If a drunk wants a drink, he will find a way to get one. Keeping the finer spirits out of the hand of someone waiting to be impressed is poor showmanship. (voryn says it confidently, vain enough to assume he'll be agreed with.

embroidered robes hang straight from broad shoulders now as he stands up to extend his first courtesy to her. the lord bows his head, though he lacks the practiced smile he would normally wear while truly deferential.)

I seek quality, not potency, but if a bottle that was brewed with both traits were to be opened, I would not turn it down.

i.

[anbaric]

[ asriel can't claim any particular skills nor advantages to explain the haste with which he emerges from the soil, knowing full well it's due to the desperation he hopes was missed by his unexpected (see: undesired) good samaritan.

he is wary because this is precisely the sort of scenario he would expect his enemy to conjure up to punish him. remind him that he is a man. a mortal. nothing more than clay and earth but for the grace of god, the authority. asriel's loathing for everything his enemy stands for fills him like a bitter poison. he shouldn't be here at all and certainly not in this vulnerable state! unwilling to accept failure, he persists. ]

If you were meant to be dead, you would be dead already.

[ the reason he quits struggling to claw his way out of the soil himself is the literal voice of reason that cuts through his aggravated thoughts. he'll never admit his disturbance, but an existential fear had loomed in the back of his mind until he knew with certainty that he wasn't alone. asriel feels foolish now to have doubted. of course stelmaria is here. there is no him without her.

and that's how he (finally) allows voryn to assist. the snow leopard that follows him immediately out of the ground manages just fine on her own, keeping a distance from the stranger but watching with eyes that contain an intelligence beyond that of a typical animal. ]

Barely born into this world and already being pressed into deals...

[ the audacity, honestly. something, something, don't you know who you're dealing with. it amuses him because he might've done the same, though he is less inclined to ask for help, stubborn as he is prone to be. stelmaria rumbles beside him.

it's the closest voryn will get to an expression of gratitude. ]

YOU WERE SO BRAVE

[sharmat]

(the animal is watched back, though voryn makes no motion to dismiss or attack it. it is the loyal pet of the man rising from the ground, judging by its defensive loom, and he thinks distantly that a steed would be more useful.

his mind tries to tear him from his rage with distractions. some work, some don't. asriel works, but will only for a time.)

You have my sympathy. Now stand, (voryn replies coolly, using what strength is left in his arm to pull asriel to his feet.

the grime clinging to asriel forces him to look at himself, fingers grasping at stained robes embroidered with alien sigil. one more disappointment he must endure now when there is something more insidious than dirt in the roots of the great tree.)

When our paths diverge, you need never see me again, but for a time, I need your ears and eyes.

communion!

[bloodsugar]

Oh! Oh, is this one of those word association games? Charades? --Pictionary! Hold on, I'll go first!! Curtains, you said? Okay~⭐

[ this all-too-eager and cheerful message is penned in Abel's chicken-scratch in the way of a handwritten note, before a pair of very sadly drawn curtains begins to appear in his new friend's mindscape.

...he is no artist, sadly. ]

what is he going to dO WITH YOU, ABEL

[sharmat]

(depressed and crabby, voryn takes this brutish illustration as a personal attack on his mind. of course, he doesn't realize that a game is being played, and strives to come up with a better example.)

Not nearly good enough.

(abel is shut out entirely until voryn is ready to respond with a very detailed imagining of horrifically gaudy curtains that appear suddenly and without warning in the man's head.)

This is the quality that I am looking for.

froop loop my beloved

[comelately]

[ bonding with others is hard indeed. Johnny is actually looking for an excuse to get out of this party and go hang out with his horse, instead; even after a few months, he feels out of place among these people and alien to their ways. Slow Dancer might be poor at keeping up conversation, but at least she's familiar and seems to enjoy his company. Sadly, it's a little difficult for him to discreetly pull away from the festivities while he's wheelchair-bound, so there he sits for a while longer, nibbling without appetite at a small bread roll.

At least he's spared being called on like a waiter. Nobody would mistake him for one! ]

I know it's edible, [ he replies blandly. ] You mean when did I get to the banquet, or when did I wake up in this world?

sib... holds your hands... finally together again

[sharmat]

(johnny is ignored for a moment as his wheelchair is taken stock of. though voryn is a stately and proud mer, his interest in new science is almost unsettling to be around, single-minded in his study of it. his head tilts to the side, sweeping the arm of his robe away to get a better look as though it were obscuring his view.)

Strange.

(not the best first word to come out of his mouth, but as an afterthought, distracted by the chair's design, voryn adds:) Very interesting. But I should like to know when you were reborn beneath the Tree of Life.

iii

[prizeneck]

[He does not comment on the wine. He's not drinking it, anyway, and even if he was, it's not his make to feel compelled about defending. He's merely chowing down on some food, his gaze hidden away by his shades focused on a spot in the mid-distance.

His eyebrows knot under the mass of black hair as he hears this whiny person complain about something so simple as food and drink.]

What is it? [Does his voice sound dry? Oh, oops, he didn't mean that.]