Let's do the Test Drive Again
I. BEARING FRUIT (NEW CHARACTERS ONLY)
It starts out as a pleasant dream. Youāre in your favorite place, with your favorite people. Itās 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, theyāre not stars. Youāre certain. Theyāre 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 youāre with, but theyāre frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you wonāt 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. Thereās agony as if youāre being ripped apart, and thenā
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a womanās voice speaks gently.
Iām sorry it couldnāt be saved. But, come, itās 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, itās odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, itās warm. Familiar. Important. You donāt 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 youāre 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 donāt 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 youāre born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once youāve 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.
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, theyāre not stars. Youāre certain. Theyāre 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 youāre with, but theyāre frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you wonāt 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. Thereās agony as if youāre being ripped apart, and thenā
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a womanās voice speaks gently.
Iām sorry it couldnāt be saved. But, come, itās 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, itās odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, itās warm. Familiar. Important. You donāt 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 youāre 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 donāt 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 youāre born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once youāve 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.
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 interventionā¦
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 interventionā¦
- 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!
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 oneās wealth - whether that comes in the form of knowledge, monetary gains, or the exchange of gifts and oneās 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.
( 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, αιĻĪ½Ī¹ĪæĻ Ī®Ī»Ī¹ĪæĻ
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.
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, Š»ŃŠ½Ń-близнеŃŃ
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.
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.
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 PsychagogĆa 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
no subject
(in resdayn, one must eat what is on their plate or go hungry. riches can buy just about anything, but there is no stopping natural disturbances. diseases in their kwama mines, tempestuous weather, straying lava flows, ashāalways ash, blanketing and choking the living but nourishing the dead by fertilization for future farmers. and what were they meant to import when trade had always been neutered, on foul terms with every race past the velothi mountains?
sebastian seems to come from a land of plenty, or a land where "plenty" can be easily bought. this is enviable, and voryn wonders what he might be introduced to here. he's even saved from having to ask if sebastian provides his services to others for pay, which the chimer lord smiles at.)
I honour your dedication to your art. Experienced chefs are rare if able to be found at all... I would try the lamb-and-vegetable dish, as it would very likely become my favourite. But I am otherwise satisfied by strong, tart flavours. Acidic things.
(and sweetsāvoryn is uncertain if he even likes sweets. they go unmentioned, though berry jams, if sour, are welcome on bread.)
As you have asked and it seems our worlds have ingredients that overlap, I will say that I am fond of seafood and crushed ash yamāa dense, fibrous root vegetable grown in the ashlands. These served with butter are a delicacy. We use many herbs to flavour things that otherwise have little going for them, however, so I am partial to having bold spices that may be overwhelming. Perhaps a combination of those things would create something unique.
no subject
He listens attentively and thoughtfully, though he does bow his head in thanks as heās called an experienced chef. Itās praise heāll very happily take since he hasnāt been cooking for people that appreciate such things lately. And with a very thorough answer given in return, it sparks a sense of challenge for Sebastian not unlike when Ciel had tasked him with making a perfect curry. Sebastian isnāt just a good chef, after all, heās a dedicated perfectionist to the craft. ]
Well, I know we have just met, but hearing that, it almost feels my duty to offer! If you would be interested, I would be very happy to offer you the sort of formal dinner service that my master would have asked me to prepare for distinguished guests. I do believe I can incorporate such flavors and textures that will at least be satisfyingly familiar, if not the exact things you are used to.
[ Though, having given a dinner invitation before an introduction makes him laugh warmly, and he brings a gloved hand to his chest lightly in a formal gesture before dipping into a light bow. Itās not as formal as what he may give with such an invitation normally, but heās also not going to stand to make it a Whole Thing. ]
But, as I have been terribly presumptuous to even offer, please pardon me for not introducing myself earlier. [ His tone is lightly teasing and cloying, because by Victorian standards, itās rude, but he hasnāt met anyone yet that follows such strict standards⦠But it doesnāt mean it isnāt fun to play with a bit. He at least offers his name with a sincere warmth. ] Sebastian Michaelis. It is a pleasure.
no subject
ornamented hands open to present the man with his answer.)
Sebastian, I think that would be fine. A formal dinner service after all that has happened would be familiar and welcome, and you seem like knowledgeable company. (sebastian's tease, while noticed, goes unmentioned, which would normally be uncharacteristic for voryn whose pride outweighs his tolerance for slights.) It wouldn't do to avoid the warm reception of new acquaintances.
(this isn't his world, however, and the things that he knows will undergo a shift; however, the nature of politics has encased him in a hard skin resistant to these things.)
My name is Voryn Dagoth. I am a Lord to my family House and a councillor to the rulers of my home province of Resdayn. I must purchase finery fit for the occasion, for what I have arrived in has become unsuitable. Do you have a duty you perform here for currency?
no subject
[ As expected, thereās no hesitation or awkwardness at all as Sebastian slips into referring to him with a title. Itās perfectly natural, and as with the rest of his mannerisms, gives the impression of not only being an excellent servant, but one used to dealing with nobility. Itās not untrue, either. Even besides his period of servitude to Ciel, heās met and served people from all social strata throughout his existence. From desperate slaves to greedy god-kings, a demon simply comes when heās called.
ā¦Not that thereās any trace of that, considering his humble answer to the question. ]
Oh, I would not call it anything so illustrious as a duty⦠But there are a few households in Highstorm that I attend on occasion when they call for my services. It is an informal sort of thing, but if they are hosting a party, I may be their butler or chef for it, or if they simply wish to have their home spotless, it is also a service I can provide. It is how I came to know some of the longtime residents, in fact.
[ ā¦More or less. Thereās a bit more to the story than that involving ingratiating himself to some of the vampire covens, but it had both been simple enough and not stories for polite company. ]
Though if you are in need of clothiers, I can make recommendations in either city. My own tastes tend towards simple and pragmatic, but I admire good work and good materials above all else.
no subject
(servants tend to carry a lot of gossip around, bloated tales of obstinate royalty, slights against them, and the unseemingly nature of some of the manors they service. sebastian may likely be in the know about influential individuals or families in the area, which makes it clear to voryn that this is a man whose actions should be followed in the coming weeks and months.
it gives him an idea that is introduced into the conversation when sebastian mentions recommendations.)
I hope that your offer implies you're willing to make those recommendations now. I do not know the lay of the land, and I should like you to accompany me on a walk, (voryn volunteers sebastian for the role, language leaving little room for a "no." of course, this could only be the cause of a strict upbringing, always, in some way, emulating the teachings of his cold father and mother. this is a lord used to getting what he wants.) Come, this food is decadent and I am therefore full. We will away to Springstar's markets first, then visit Highstorm.
(leaving the banquet table, sebastian is approached so that they may depart together, still smelling of sap and soil. logic wins over instinct when voryn almost snaps his fingers for the man to do as he bids, instead tucking his hands away to behold him with a rare smile. he does not offer sebastian an arm, for while he is courteous and might have normally, this is reserved only for those that he feels may equal or exceed him in power. they therefore fall into step kept apart by space and status.
and they lived happily ever skipping from store to store shopping)