Entry tags:
MARCH TDM + SETTING UPDATES
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.
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.
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.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.
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.
TWO CITIES, ALIKE IN DIGNITY
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.
Tables draped in white-and-gold-trimmed fabrics fare filled with fare typical 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.
However, those who have attended the forum in the past or simply have a sharp eye may notice: food doesn’t flow as freely in a feast-like setting as before. It’s more subdued in presentation and portion because as you may hear, the Blight (see below) is an affliction that’s been affecting the food stores of Springstar and Highstorm both. The Meri are nervous about this and blame it on the Zenites since they had won the Oracle on the Scorching Isles (January's event) and with it, punished the Meridian, even if unintentionally. As such, those who are notable Zenites or who wear their allegiance openly may not be treated as kindly. The military also seems to be more present at the forum. These two things are related, as it turns out, because only a few days after the new Shard-Bearers arrive, an invasion will begin.
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.
The mood of Highstorm is subdued as always, but still seems to be pleasant and joyous thanks to claiming the Oracle in the Scorching Isles. The Blight may be affecting the city and causing plants and the like to die, but there’s admittedly not much of it to be seen with Highstorm’s harsh winters. Maybe they’re not hit as badly as Springstar, or maybe they just haven’t noticed yet. Only time will tell. But regardless, notable Meri or those that wear their allegiance more openly will be treated politely, but perhaps with a little condescension. Highstorm is one step closer to winning than Springstar, after all.
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.
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 typical 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.
However, those who have attended the forum in the past or simply have a sharp eye may notice: food doesn’t flow as freely in a feast-like setting as before. It’s more subdued in presentation and portion because as you may hear, the Blight (see below) is an affliction that’s been affecting the food stores of Springstar and Highstorm both. The Meri are nervous about this and blame it on the Zenites since they had won the Oracle on the Scorching Isles (January's event) and with it, punished the Meridian, even if unintentionally. As such, those who are notable Zenites or who wear their allegiance openly may not be treated as kindly. The military also seems to be more present at the forum. These two things are related, as it turns out, because only a few days after the new Shard-Bearers arrive, an invasion will begin.
HIGHSTORM, луны-близнецы
Eternally in opposition, Highstorm provides the Manor's courtyard as the setting for their informational meeting. Formality is of utmost importance here, 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.
The mood of Highstorm is subdued as always, but still seems to be pleasant and joyous thanks to claiming the Oracle in the Scorching Isles. The Blight may be affecting the city and causing plants and the like to die, but there’s admittedly not much of it to be seen with Highstorm’s harsh winters. Maybe they’re not hit as badly as Springstar, or maybe they just haven’t noticed yet. Only time will tell. But regardless, notable Meri or those that wear their allegiance more openly will be treated politely, but perhaps with a little condescension. Highstorm is one step closer to winning than Springstar, after all.
para bellum (the occupation of alenroux)
A few days after new Shard-Bearers arrive, the word spreads quickly as the campaign begins: Meridian is invading Alenroux.
To those who have Harmonized with Meridian, they’ll be contacted by Cyrus through Communion 48 hours before the invasion begins. As he explains, Springstar is a city that depends on Alenroux far more than Highstorm (because of its much larger population), and with Alenroux currently under Zenite control, it’s imperative that they make sure that Zenith isn’t able to cut off access and cause a famine for Springstar. Zenith won’t be denied access to Alenroux or its bounty either, he makes that clear. This is just a matter of being proactive in their defense to protect their people. For the Meridian, their goals in supporting this effort are clear:
It takes some time for Yima to learn more about the events herself, but Zenith will also be contacted through Communion. With the air of a disappointed mother, she’ll explain that Meridian’s choice is regrettable since she thought they would be better than this. Yima explains that there’s no need to turn Alenroux into an open warzone and cut off both cities from their breadbasket. Instead, she lays out the following direction to gently break Meridian’s spirit first before turning to open hostilities:
To those who have Harmonized with Meridian, they’ll be contacted by Cyrus through Communion 48 hours before the invasion begins. As he explains, Springstar is a city that depends on Alenroux far more than Highstorm (because of its much larger population), and with Alenroux currently under Zenite control, it’s imperative that they make sure that Zenith isn’t able to cut off access and cause a famine for Springstar. Zenith won’t be denied access to Alenroux or its bounty either, he makes that clear. This is just a matter of being proactive in their defense to protect their people. For the Meridian, their goals in supporting this effort are clear:
- Create secure outposts. Well-built, defensible outposts are needed, so anyone who can assist with building efforts, and quickly are appreciated.
- Defend the outposts and the Meri soldiers at large. Alenroux is still dangerous because of the monsters, and soldiers will be staying overnight. Fighting off monsters is something that will also eventually make Alenroux inhabitable.
- Prevent Zenith interference. Highstorm surely won’t be happy about this, so make sure that the soldiers and the outposts are protected from Zenites just as much as from the monsters that roam the lands.
It takes some time for Yima to learn more about the events herself, but Zenith will also be contacted through Communion. With the air of a disappointed mother, she’ll explain that Meridian’s choice is regrettable since she thought they would be better than this. Yima explains that there’s no need to turn Alenroux into an open warzone and cut off both cities from their breadbasket. Instead, she lays out the following direction to gently break Meridian’s spirit first before turning to open hostilities:
- Collect information. Where are the outposts, how many soldiers are assigned to them, and what are their general movements. Scouting and spying will be valuable. Learning more about the Meri Shard-Bearers’ capabilities while they’re fighting creatures rather than Zenites is also useful.
- Create dissent. The people that work and visit Alenroux regularly have mixed feelings about the occupation unless they’re Meridian loyalists. Making the campaign unpopular with the people can push Meridian back without needing to raise a finger.
- Sabotage. But don’t get caught doing it, at least for now. Whether breaking defenses or leading more powerful monsters to the encampments, it’s best to break morale before needing to fight back openly.
SETTING UPDATES
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 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. As Shard-Bearers new and old take in their cities, they'll all see it change throughout the month...
OOC, these are all updates to the setting at large that players both new and old are free to interact with as little or as much as they wish! Feel free to use them as prompts on this post, in your characters on-going lives and arcs, or just let them go "that's none of my business" and ignore it. The world of Kenos is shaped by our playerbase, and these are some of the wider reaching effects of various player plots and actions.
OOC, these are all updates to the setting at large that players both new and old are free to interact with as little or as much as they wish! Feel free to use them as prompts on this post, in your characters on-going lives and arcs, or just let them go "that's none of my business" and ignore it. The world of Kenos is shaped by our playerbase, and these are some of the wider reaching effects of various player plots and actions.
THE BLIGHT
During the events of the Scorching Isles, Shard-Bearers encountered an affliction upon the island and unintentionally brought it back to Highstorm and Springstar with them. Known simply as “the Blight,” this condition steals time from the things it infects. It most frequently infects inanimate objects and will cause them to rot or degrade rapidly (such as a piece of metal rusting within hours) but is able to infect living things as well. Most notably, the Blight is infecting plants and animals in the two cities. Plants both decorative and necessary will wither and die, and small animals grow sick and die seemingly of old age. This has been seen in small amounts throughout the past month OOC but is greatly increased in frequency in March and beyond.FURTHER DETAILS
- Within the NPC populace, there’s a low-grade fear of the Blight intensifying and being able to infect larger animals/the people. There’s no evidence of this yet, but Shard-Bearers that were on the Scorching Isles will know this is possible.
- Some characters will be aware that the rare, blue flowers that grow in the barren portions of World’s End (February’s event location) seem to reduce the effects of the detrimental effects of the Oracle and the Blight. Because of some drops of characters that knew this information, you can assume that characters are able to learn this information if they’re interested enough to dig into it.
- Dr. Julia Melnik of Springstar is openly researching cures for the Blight and will recruit anyone interested to be research assistants to test formulations of cures on afflicted plants/creatures. You can handwave these interactions and use them for prompt(s), if you’d like!
- Finally, if curing the Blight is something your character would specifically be interested in, please note it in your Character Survey so that the Loremasters will be able to help you pursue this organically.
THE OCCUPATION OF ALENROUX
As mentioned above, Meridian has launched a surprise invasion and occupation of Alenroux. Because Meridian was able to successfully keep their efforts a secret throughout the months (!) they’ve been planning this, Zenith will not be able to repel their advances… Immediately, at least. After roughly a week OOC from this log’s posting, the Meridian outposts in Alenroux will be stable and will change the island in the following ways:If Zenith would like to repel these advances, this is a response that will be purely in player hands (but will be assisted by Zenite NPCs, of course!). If they want to reclaim Alenroux, they can, or they can simply let Meridian continue. It’s up to you! This is something that Zenite players should discuss both IC and OOC, and if this plot develops further, Loremasters will help facilitate the ongoing conflict as a part of our changing game environment.FURTHER DETAILS
- Outposts have been established in well-chosen, defensible locations throughout the island of Alenroux. They’re clustered more heavily closer to the Cornerstone and are non-existent in the more dangerous Northern portion of the island where little farming is done anyways.
- Meridian soldiers will be always staying in the camps and outposts. For now, they’re a more supervisory force that are protecting the farmlands of Alenroux. During the day cycle, the military will respond with hostility to anyone that threatens the farms. If your character would antagonize or outright fight Meridian military, please contact a Loremaster, since this will have repercussions! Otherwise, the soldiers will assist workers and visitors to Alenroux in a professional manner.
- During the night cycle, the military will defend their outposts from monsters and make occasional offensive excursions to reduce the threat of monsters. The secondary goal of the Meridian military is also to make Alenroux a place that people can live, though this is a longer term effort.
- Meridian Shard-Bearers will be strongly encouraged to assist with the effort. “Assist” is purposefully defined broadly so that characters can help in whatever way suits them. Scouting, building, monster killing, or just morale improving are all valid ways that will gain favor with their faction and may lead to further opportunity. For now, abstaining will not have consequences, but may in the future.
- Zenith Shard-Bearers will be treated with suspicion in Alenroux and are not allowed to approach any of the Meridian outposts, or at least not without triggering a fight. The military will not outright attack Zenites (unless provoked) and essentially encouraged to move along. However, they may wish to gather information about the outposts and Meridian forces to attempt to push back against the occupation.
- Unharmonized Shard-Bearers are not treated with hostility, but similar to Zeniths will not be allowed to enter any of the encampments.
- If your character has an interest in continuing or stopping the occupation, please note it in your Character Survey so that Loremasters will be able to help you pursue this organically.
SMALLER CHANGES
HIGHSTORM: GREENWOOD YARDS
Considering the affliction that threatens the well-being of flora and small fauna alike, the greenhouses are far more discerning with those who are permitted inside its gates, afraid of the contagion affecting the precious, invaluable greenery of long-dead worlds. After the occupation of Alenroux, Meridian will be outright turned away, and while Zenith possesses no formal military or police, the greenskeepers appear to be prepared to defend their property with physical force should it come to that. Unharmonized are still allowed inside. The rest of the Yard beyond the greenhouses are still open to all factions.
And though it may seem an odd place for such a gathering, the indoor bathhouse at the far end of the Yards appears to be gaining popularity for mysterious reasons; if asked, none of the locals will explain the abrupt uptick in visitation. But should you investigate yourself, the reason why becomes apparent through experience: the tea served by the attendants here has changed properties. Should you be a Zenite, you will be served a cup that decreases your body's natural need for food and drink for 24 hours - an effort to test a concoction to relieve the need to deplete resources and lessen the city's reliance on Alenroux. Should you be a Meridian, the tea you're served will increase your appetite a considerable degree even if you normally do not require sustenance, and you will find yourself unfulfilled even if you are unwise and eat yourself to the point of illness; this lasts for 24 hours. The Unharmonized will find the tea might make them vaguely woozy, and either cause mild increase or decrease in appetite.
KOWLOON: DRAUMAHOL (cw: drugs)
Those that frequent Kowloon may have heard about the sudden disappearance of the former owner and operator of the drug den Draumahol, though it was only really noted because of the business being closed for a few days. Practically unheard of, since the desperate of Highstorm and Springstar come to Draumahol for their various fixes that are a little more taboo on the surface. But, never fear. After a brief closure, Draumahol reopens.
While it may not be obvious early in the month, it'll be increasingly so that Draumahol is under new management. Those that frequent the business enough will be able to figure out that the new owner is Silco (or, if you personally know him, it's fairly obvious). If you would like to plot anything regarding Draumahol, we encourage reaching out to Silco's player, Jill!
SPRINGSTAR: THE CHURCH
After the loss of the first Oracle, the Church of Heliopolis has been busy tending to its flock as the numbers coming to seek comfort swell. The gatherings aren't formal "services" so much as they're chances for people to come together and inspire each other with their homes and dreams of home. One formal process that does stick out though is that with each "service" one member will tap into the world shown in their sunbeam and open their minds to Communion. Anyone that wishes to can also experience this member's home, see their friends, loved ones, and the sights. It's a intimate bonding activity, but seems to be very cathartic for those that partake.
Additionally, those that come by the Church frequently enough to be known faces at the "services" may also be approached by priests and priestesses and invited to join in smaller ceremonies. Always taking place during Springstar's dawn or dusk, these ceremonies have a markedly different vibe and are lead by Hieropoios Natalia herself. Attending these ceremonies is an exclusive honor that will reduce attendees' Discord and has a subtly addictive quality that will encourage them to return. Hm!
OOC NOTES
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
no subject
But it's clear he's not as panicked, or maybe this guy is just really good at holding it in? When she turns to look at him, all she can see is that frown on his lips. How it deepens when he sees what happens to your clothes when you're, literally, reborn. And that he looks distinctly tired when their eyes meet. ]
Uh .. It's a long story?
[ She moves to dig the heel of her palm into her eyes but she can't — stops halfway because dirt and she ends up just pinching the bridge of her nose, the other hand at her hip. Usually there's someone else to explain all of this, and she isn't good at breaking bad news (much less offering sympathy). ]
Which, I'll tell you, it's just.. I need a sec to think. [ Also, the person still trapped beneath that dirt is vying for some help, which she gets to tending to all the while wondering.. Is is considered rude to try and talk to his head directly through communion, after he just woke up?? Would he be mad??? ] I guess — right now, you're not in Highstorm, or Springstar. You're at this tree we all wake up at.
[ She stops her digging to put a hand to her chin (yes, she is putting fingerprint marks made of dirt on herself), and then gestures somewhere further back. ]
You can probably find my hole somewhere around here.
no subject
right now, he's not panicked in the typical sense of the word, if only because he's used to feeling lost. he's grown used to questioning his own reality and his own identity. moon knight. marc spector. steven grant and jake lockley. protector of the travellers of the night. vengeance. what of it was real? he hadn't been sure, not until he'd pulled on his mask and been able to see the truth.
his eyebrows dart upwards, just for a second, when she says — questioningly — that it's a long story. dull resignation and a lack of surprise at the extraordinarily unhelpful response, before he looks past her and around, as if searching for something or someone.
I need a second to think, she adds, and his gaze shoots back to her sharply. his thoughts are that it can't be that complicated that she needs time to think about it, even if it's not an explanation he'll be able to make heads nor tails of. he's used to that.
highstorm. springstar. tree. none of it makes any sense — except 'tree', which he can somewhat gather for himself, thank you very much.
he pinches the bridge of his nose, winces, and drops his hand back to his side, a small, dark smudge of dirt remaining. he needs a shower, he thinks suddenly, even as lottie remarks that her hole — grave? it's a grave — is somewhere here, and he looks behind himself in spite of himself to see the expanse of the...
...tree.
nice. )
You haven't answered my question. ( he tells her, standing. watching as she continues to busy herself. )
no subject
She's experienced enough to filter it out, if she wanted, but she doesn't. She lets him grab a taste of her emotions and all the complications that come with it when she instills impressions of invents, conversations, into his mind.
There's one, two, digs of dirt, accompanied with fragments of her own memories, of the same dream he had but its own Lottie Person flavor. It's the tiniest bit different, but the impression is all the same: everything is gone. He sees Lottie traverse through another equally moonlit, equally dreary, city. One whose name escapes her because her attention span, and then dirt. The taste of it on her tongue as she wakes up. The panic that floods her brain when she emerges from that same grave he looked towards. Then Highstorm, the city comprised of moonlight. Her hand resting against the foggy window of her home, snow dabbling against the glass. A man named Manon and faction conflict, a frozen castle on a recently recovered island. But above all: a promise of, eventually, you'll have what you want (in reference to that god forsaken dream, it always is).
One that's clearly been made to Lottie, because it's not her saying it, but the factional mother, Yima.
It's a crude, rushed, version of everything that she's experienced. Bits and pieces of people and conflicts Marc gets a taste of, like the eternal Meridian and Zenith debacle (which he'll feel a distant feeling of: meh, where it concerns Lottie — it's clear that whatever war is going on she isn't particularly affected enough to reject friendship from the opposite faction). ]
Does that work?
[ She says, finally making eye contact with him as she finished carving out the impression of this poor arrival into the dirt. ]
no subject
in truth, he doesn't know what he'd been expecting and it's not so much that it's overwhelming — marc is used to thoughts and feelings that aren't his lurking, floating just out of reach, pressing against his thoughts and his feelings. sometimes closer, sometimes further away. sometimes he can push them away, swallow them deep down into the abyss and the craters of his mind so that he's still marc.
sometimes he can't.
when lottie sends her thoughts his way, he's still him. they sit on the surface of everything he feels, not quite smothering so much as informing.
he knows how it feels to be someone else, the lingering memory of wants and desires, likes and dislikes left by choice. sometimes not left at all. sometimes what's left is nothing at all, a void where once there had been time and experiences, recollections deliberately void.
this is different. the sense of lottie is alien, wholly different to steven and jake, though it's not all her. it's others impressing on her, and she— panic. fear. a lack of interest once understanding sets in. names he doesn't recognise, impressions of places he's never been.
when she speaks in the present, drawing his attention physically back to her, he—
he breathes. his lips thin and he scowls. he wonders if she had received any impression of him throughout all of that, and though it's not the first time his mind has been touched and though it won't be the last—. )
What? ( it helps and it doesn't. it sits alongside the rest of his thoughts, the ones he's been told aren't real (but they are) and the ones he's been told are real (but they're not), and he's not yet sure where to slot them, where to file them away.
he doesn't answer the question. )
What was that?
no subject
(Which should be a concern, in its own right, but Lottie doesn't think that far ahead and she's not concerned for things like her safety when the people she's rescuing are babies, practically.)
And even if he wasn't, Lottie won't pay much attention to it. She feels, and lets it roll off her like water on a ducks back. None of her concern, not her real problem.
She glances up to him, ]
It was me. [ And then broadcasted unhelpfully in his head: ] Easier to talk through communion sometimes than, you know, in real life. You'll get it. [ She gestures vaguely to her head as her voice rings out loud in the real world, ] It's quicker. Easier to, you know. Filter stuff out.
no subject
Don't. ( forcefully, irritably. there's a breath of a pause and his tone softens, just a touch — it's a comparative softens, it's still sharp, though it's with an edge of tiredness and resignation more than anything approaching gentleness. ) No-one should be going anywhere near my head. ( does he mean it as a warning? does he just think it's rude? none of that's clear and marc doesn't bother clarifying, doesn't seem to even entertain the thought of either wanting or needing to clarify.
easier to filter stuff out, she says, and he's not sure if he knows what she means. marc has spent most of his life trying not to get stuck in his head — and failing, inevitably — that he doesn't quite understand how any of what she just did leant itself to any of that. )
Communion's an interesting way to call it.
no subject
She refrains from biting at her lip, the person she's digging out rising from the depths of the dirt second by second. ]
It's just what we call it.
[ Lottie has never really questioned it, and her next explanation may clue him in why: ]
It's like texting.. A more personal facetime. You know what that is, right?
[ His accent is heavy and clear, just like her own titular Californian one. And while she doesn't know what year he's from, he looks modern enough for her question to actually work. ]
no subject
(ah, but the videos had been one way: no-one had seen him.)
which is to say: it's not an intrinsic dislike of technology. he likes novel technology, things that are different and things that are useful (his definition of useful, not anyone else's — a definition of useful that mostly means 'I can use it for Moon Knight-ingTM').
and more pertinently, more of the actual issue, is that marc likes control. )
Facetime and texting are very different. ( verbal, vocal confirmation that he does, in fact, know what both are.
he watches as she continues to help the other person emerge from the ground and briefly, he thinks about helping. should he? the hesitancy, the question makes no overt appearance in his expression, and instead he adds— ) And with both you get to choose if you want to answer.
( or: marc spector is definitely that guy that ignores phone calls and takes an inordinate amount of time to reply to text messages.
no subject
He says facetime and texting are very different and she gives a teensy shrug of her shoulders, about to elaborate that they are preeetty much the same exact thing until he adds that last tidbit. The person being dug out is now privy to the, silly, dumbstruck expression on Lottie's face, the one Marc might have trouble catching in all its glory from his standing position.
But he sure can hear the mumbled: ]
..Oh, my god — he's right.
[ It's been so long since she'd had the luxury of leaving people on the backburner for days, maybe weeks, at a time for one reply back that she.. Forgot?? About the option with modern technology that she could just ignore things??? And here she is, being subjected to stupid mental group chats for hours on end thinking it was the way things were???? ]
no subject
he watches her shrug and he turns away from her, circling round and looking up at the tree. dappled light breaks through here and there, and the temperature's cool; marc can't remember the last time he'd been anywhere this green.
resurrection at the foot of khonshu's statue had been cold and dark and painful. he'd been covered in blood, clothes soaked through and skin covered. marlene had said something about him being dead and delirious, and he'd said something stupid about being exactly dead as khonshu.
her mumble breaks through the silence and he looks over his shoulder at her and the — someone else almost ready to emerge from their hole-in-the-ground. ) —Marc. ( "he" is marc, thank you very much.
he waves a hand at her, then adds— ) I'll leave you to your digging. ( or he would, if he knew where to go or what to do and though the question's there, in the silence between them, marc doesn't actually ask it. )
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Marc's right. And then she remembers, well shit, she's been in his brain but hasn't even introduced herself? But she doesn't quite reply back immediately, figuring she should settle whatever the hell is happening with this poor sap climbing their way out of the ground. They emerge whole and intact, confused, and then promptly distracted by something like a dog — a wolf, distant in the corner, Lottie's own little familiar happily wagging its tail towards her own stash of snacks in her backpack.
They amble their way out and she hesitantly pats their back for encouragement to go over there. Because Marc — not he, or him, Marc — had waved a hand at her and officially.. Takes himself out of the conversation. She figure she's probably giving her the space to take her time and, she doesn't know, be personable and nice to the person freed from their hole-in-the-ground. But she doesn't, or at least, as far as he knows she doesn't.
(Truthfully, there's little communion happening between her and this person, especially since her familiar is taking care of most of the work.)
Once they're gone and out of immediate sight, she dusts her hands off on her thighs and walks Marc's way. She waves a hand at him, adds — ]
..I'm Lottie, by the way. [ He doesn't have to ask anything, Lottie is more than aware of how complicated and awkward it is to be in this situation. In her case, she had the luck of having people she knew, equally confused and oxygen deprived (being buried in dirt will do that). ] Did you.. [ A pause. A gnaw at her lip, because what does she say?? What should she say? ] Wanna get out of here? Want any snacks?
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truthfully, marc's not really sure what he's just witnessed. )
I wasn't planning on staying here. ( he says, though now that some of the shock and surprise has worn off, it's quiet and peaceful in a way that marc hasn't known in a long time. maybe ever, if he really thinks about, which is a sobering thought. the thought of how pleasant it could be is quickly displaced by the knowledge that he's not good with quiet and peace, never has been and probably never will be. sometimes, he thinks it's what he wants, but—
he wouldn't know what to do with it.
go stir-crazy (heh), probably.
he doesn't say anything about the snacks, isn't sure if he wants to ask why she has snacks because the answer's probably mundane enough that it's irrelevant. he can't remember the last time he ate, but he's not — doesn't think he's hungry.
it'll probably hit him later. ) —Where?
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Right.. Where.
It only dawns on her that technically, all he owns are the poor dirt covered clothing on his back (and the nice shoes he wears, at the bottom, the suspiciously nice shoes). Whatever home he had before this is destroyed, the only existence it now carries in any capacity is in his mind. The same way she thinks about her condo, the one that had all her favorite things — like her laptop, her overflowing closet, the really soft tissues she'd buy for her nose that never made her skin dry and itchy.
(Also while she is definitely distracted by this debacle because, uh, he's homeless now, she still always has snacks on the ready, tucked away in the many pockets of her pants in case he suddenly finds himself famished.)
Now, she kinda doesn't want to leave. She swallows the thought down as she crosses her arms beneath her chest, adding a waffling sort of: ]
Uh.. Outside??
[ Duh. Of course 'outside'. Smooth. ]
I guess.. I can take you to where I live? Highstorm kinda has its own.. Charm.
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his eyebrows knit together quizzically, the lines in his brow — typically indicative of a frown instead of literally any other expression — showcasing evident bemusement before she amends her question, equally unsure as before.
it's as questioning and marc's expression gives way to doubt, just for a moment, and he stiffens. ) You don't need to take me to where you live. ( he thinks it's clear that she doesn't want to. ) A direction's enough.
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Noooo, no, I want to. I just — [ May get weird looks if she goes to Springstar if he wants to go there? Isn't sure if he's really about the ye olde magic aesthetic of Highstorm? War things???? She rubs at her temple, moreso at herself than him because now he's feeling weird. ] you'll get confused. Or lost. Or like really, really, tired if I don't!
[ Lottie doesn't even sound like she's exaggerating by saying this — there's a nonchalant sort of assurance to her words. ]
I'll take you there and give you directions.
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(he knows he's difficult.)
she half-starts and half-finishes a couple of different replies, none of which sound particularly convincing, not at first, as if she's trying to pick and choose what he's most likely to believe. by the time she settles on 'confused', he doesn't disagree. he's already confused. he was confused before he'd even awoke in a not-so-shallow grave. lost — well, yeah. this isn't new york, and he's not sure he was there in the first place, before, but he's been lost in worse places. the desert, for one. died in worse ways — shot, stabbed, drowned. and as for being really, really tired?
there's a laugh. he wouldn't know 'well-rested' if it punched him in the face.
she sounds like she believes it though, and he closes his eyes.
god fuck, he hates this. )
—Yeah, fine, whatever. Lead the way. To Highstorm or— ( a twitch of a hand, ) wherever.
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(No, Lottie, it's everything else about this situation, actually, that is probably bothering him.) ]
Cool. Alright.
[ She's one second shy of saying awesome before she reels herself in and turns to get the trek started. They pass both their poor, third wheeling, recently wakened friend and the dog-wolf in the corner (said dog-wolf stares intently at Marc, then at Lottie — who is.. 'Discretely' pointing at the ground, evidently saying: stay).
Luckily for them, everyone else buried in the ground is still asleep — no fingers creeping up to the surface, or mounds of dirt shifting to and fro. Weaving past them becomes easier that way, especially when they become few and far between the further they get from the tree, itself. It's after they pass an open hole, probably left over from the last time fresh faces arrived, that she turns to him. ]
So.. Marc, what were you doing before this?
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—then she asks him what he was doing before.
it's a normal question that normal people ask each other, he reminds himself. a way to make conversation and it should be an easy question to answer, but it's not. he's quiet for long enough that she might think he's ignoring the question before finally, surprisingly softly in that accent of his— ) I was looking for an Egyptian god.
( he settles on the truth because he doesn't think he'd be able to pull together a meaningful, believable enough lie to make it work. he doesn't know enough about any of what steven does to crib off his whole investment-business-movie producing whatever schtick, and jake? he's in a fucking three-piece suit, there's not a cabbie on earth that'd be caught wearing what he is.
he settles on the truth because she can decide if she wants to believe it or if she thinks he's pulling something preposterous out of his ass just to see how she'll react. it's not all there was to it — there's the part of him that's not really sure, that remembers all of it and remembers not knowing if any of it, like this, was real. )
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If demons (Sebastian, she is really just talking about Sebastian, here) exist — and are nice and polite and make her snacks and tea whenever she wants — then gods existing in the same place as humans isn't that weird? It makes sense, in the wildest of ways. And it's with that type of logic that she finally answers with a curious: ]
How'd you lose him? [ A beat. ] Or her? ..Them??
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she accepts it without question, which is — it's something, actually, and marc's not really sure what. it's a surprise, even despite everything because there hadn't been that many people that'd believed him before, even with everything that happened in the world with other gods and superheroes and everything in between. it's different, apparently, if no-one else could see or hear the god giving you instructions. )
Gods aren't the sort of beings you lose. Faith is. ( he answers without answering the question. he hadn't lost anyone, he was just searching for them. there's a difference. )
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Replies that actually force her to think, and she does exactly that, her pace reflecting the switch in attention. ]
I guess..
[ Because he's not wrong.. Technically. She doesn't know anything about gods, or god, doesn't care about religion in any capacity, so who is she to argue? ]
So why were you looking, then? Did you need something?
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if asked, though, marc wouldn't describe himself as an overtly religious man. he'd describe his god as a dick, petty and jealous and controlling, but he wouldn't really be able to hide how important it — any of it, all of it — really is to his psyche, to his personhood. )
Yes.
( the unasked question is what he needed but she doesn't ask and he doesn't answer. he knows it's the polite thing to do, but it's not important here and not important to her. he doesn't slow when she slows, plowing ahead in the manner of someone very much used to walking and traversing unfamiliar terrain until he reaches the conclusion he should wait for her to catch up because he still doesn't know where they're going because he still doesn't want anyone going anywhere near his head.
he looks back at her, a sudden twitch to his lips forming a humourless, crooked smile. a belated non-explanation to go with his non-answer. ) That's normally why people go looking for gods. ( at least, that was his relationship with khonshu: want and need. he hadn't wanted to die, and he needed to be someone other than marc spector.
though that's absolutely not what he's referring to.
(probably.) ) What were you doing?
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He looks back to her, all in one decision deciding to wait since somewhere he realized that, too — and she returns his smile. It's something small and light, vaguely tired. He didn't have to add that, she wasn't going to ask him to explain upon that 'yes' (she can read a room, sometimes), but he does and it's kind of funny. She almost laughs, at that, but is stopped short when he asks her the same question.
The surprise shows on her face — and Lottie doesn't think to school it. There's no reason for her to. She looks a little puzzled in the moments following, brows pinching together. When was the last time anyone asked her that? When was the last time she even talked about what she was doing before all this? About her life?
(The answer is: no one has, no one does. Everyone is so in the now the past is something that's never thought about, and that's normal, right?) ]
I just got back from my friend's bachelorette party. [ Even saying 'just got back' is strange. Makes her wonder how things would've turned out if nothing got destroyed. ] ..It was a shit show.
[ 'Shit show' is said semi-fondly, now, because it was terrible for everybody involved, but at least it was normal. A situation that would become the least of her problems. She gives a little shrug, follows it up with: ]
..That was like, a year ago, though.
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what he hadn't imagined was looking like a man who enjoyed dust baths. it's hard to be intimidating that way.
her surprise elicits surprise from him — judging from the mention of snacks, the fortuitous timing and the dog-wolf, this isn't the first time lottie's done this and yet it's apparently the first time in a long while that anyone's turned the question round and asked her.
lottie's answer is remarkably, incredibly mundane but that's not the part that sticks with him, it's the— )
—You've been here a year?
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Yet, he isn't intimidating at this very moment, but his words seem to be, unintentionally so, judging by her reaction. He says 'year' and Lottie's brows furrow, begins to wonder if she should've just kept the truth to herself.. But she didn't want to lie!! ]
Collectively..?
[ It isn't meant to be a question, she really doesn't mean for it to be, but it comes out like one. And then she ruffles at the hair that frames her face, scratches at her scalp as she pieces together an answer. Predictably, it sits just as foreign on her tongue as her last reply, because she's never had to outwardly acknowledge this either. Never had to consciously confront how weird and unbelievable this all sounds and it's making her completely unaware of her rambling. ]
I've, umm, been here six months in this world, and then four someplace else. It's all timey-wimey world or.. Dimension hopping stuff, whatever you wanna call it? I don't know?? I just haven't seen a TV or a phone in forever or internet in forever is why I even bother to keep track anymore.. And my birthday, I guess.
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