MARCH TDM + SETTING UPDATES

[beleos]

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.

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.

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:

• 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.

And indeed, the invasion and occupation does come as a surprise to Highstorm. While they had noted the increased training of Springstar’s military, it was assumed to be in preparation for the intensified tensions of losing the first Oracle, not something as bold as an open act of war like this.

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.

If you’re unharmonized when all of this begins, then you’ll be finding out about it with the general populace. However, it’s a good opportunity to learn what a faction is about in a more hands-on way. Though you may not be privy to their private, factional discussions, both sides will still welcome the help of those still yet to decide.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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

Welcome to Kenos! As a reminder, all new players need an invite to apply to 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 sometimes happens since not every soul has a strong tether to Kenos and sometimes return to the Timestream. They may return to Kenos one day, but for now, weren’t able to make the full journey.

As a note primarily for current players, closed toplevels/prompts are not allowed in this log. If you would like to interact with the setting changes in a way that isn't open to all characters (new and old), we ask that you instead make a log in kenoslogs.

As a general reminder, any new characters that choose Zenith will receive a bonus 2 AC token reward, which is a purely OOC incentive. Our factions are a bit imbalanced at the moment, so we'd appreciate more Zenites!

FOR NEW PLAYERS:

When characters emerge from their cocoon/the ground, they may be wearing their normal clothes or 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 about which Faction they'd be drawn to.

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 freed 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!

New characters will not have access to any canon abilities on the TDM until they Harmonize, AKA make a choice of which faction they choose to support. For some characters, this may be an easy decision, but it make take others time. We just ask you keep this in mind!

CODING

Comments

[vestments]

( their three's-a-crowd new friend is distracted by the dog-wolf in the corner and then so is marc, though he doesn't make any move towards it. he watches until they start to move, until lottie pats their back and they leave.

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?

[oomfies]

[ Well, fair. Fair. Of course he wouldn't stay here — it's a tree. Not particularly an apartment or something welcoming like a bed! She tries to hide the twinge of embarrassment she feels at that realization. It only vaguely works, right up until he asks that million dollar question.

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.

[vestments]

( despite the fact that she'd suggested leaving first and marc had offered no opposition to the idea, she suddenly seems unsure with what to do with any of it. <>outside, she seems to question, and marc merely stares at her, in turn unsure what to do with that remark. they — are outside? they're very much outside, if the grass and the tree(s) and the everything of their surroundings is to be believed, to be taken at face value as real.

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.

[oomfies]

[ If he'd just let her poke at his brain she'd be able to tell him that a direction, in fact, won't be enough. Whatever mythical force saw this tree went ahead and made it a landmass separate from everything else (it's an island, they're unhelpfully on an island, he'd have to swim if she doesn't show him how to teleport). And the worst part is she can see that he sees that she's actively thinking about this, which, in turn, just makes her face warm a little more, because she really wants to help? She's just bad at it??? ]

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.

[vestments]

( marc would try and say that it's not that he doesn't want her poking his brain (he doesn't) but that it's for her own good (it is, kind of) because he doesn't know what she'd see, doesn't know how she'd react. she flushes, just a little, not enough to really be noticeable and marc notices it only subconsciously, certainly not enough to think anything of why.

(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.

[oomfies]

[ Uh.. Is that a good laugh or a bad laugh? Lottie actively wonders about this even as he agrees to follow her. And then there's that twitch of his hand and she thinks eesh, tough crowd. First he wants to go, now he wants to go but with a little more resigned zest. Is he really that bothered he couldn't go somewhere by himself?

(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?

[vestments]

( he doesn't say anything else before following her, though he's a little surprised when they come back across the wolf-dog and the other — person, and there's a second where marc almost asks if they should be travelling as a group because why not? but lottie apparently makes the decision that no, they should not, and then—

—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. )

[oomfies]

[ If he had said that to a fresh faced Lottie, pre-everything, she'd probably give him the stink eye and think: wow, okay, somebody's special! Or weird. Both. But now, all Lottie does is give a contemplative sort of hum. It's just as soft as the way he airs out the truth to her, and a little louder than the way the dirt crinkles beneath their shoes.

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??

[vestments]

( is marc talking about khonshu or is he talking about anput? or seth? marc's not really sure, it could be any of them or it could be none of them. she takes it literally rather than metaphorically, which would've been a perfectly valid way of taking it too. khonshu was the sort of god that answered only when it suited him, which was still countless more times than how often God had answered him.

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. )

[oomfies]

[ She scratches at her cheek, completely oblivious to all that is going through Marc's head, at her easy acceptance of something very strange, in favor of her own. It starts something like: oh. Boo. That's less interesting than she was hoping for. His words are still interesting enough for her to try and mull over a reply, because Marc is surprisingly good at giving non-answers. Replies that don't really help her with much of anything.

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?

[vestments]

( whilst marc has the initial vibe and the energy of a man who probably doesn't care about religion either, it's the furthest thing from the truth. his relationship with judaism and, by extension, his father (and vice versa) is a constant thread throughout his life, despite how little he'll ever acknowledge it. it's there in his relationship with khonshu, in how he views his service to khonshu, his mission and his debt. in how he feels guilt at having been raised to worship a god who'd taken his people out of egypt and now he worships a god who kept him tied there, in both death and in life.

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?

[oomfies]

[ He keeps his pace and all she does is just.. Watch the back of his head as he plows ahead, takes note of just how muddied that poor suit of his is. It probably looked nice, once upon a time. Pretty and pristine — and then the dumber part of her brain wonders if you always have to look nice to try and seek audience with an Egyptian god? Any god, really. She keeps her gait the same way it was, because she's the only one who really knows the path to get out of here, into the open.

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.

[vestments]

( later, when marc's alone and had time to reflect on the journey his day (his life) has taken, he'll also take some time to look at the suit and be momentarily disheartened over the state of his suit. the point of it, of course, is that it's white, but when he'd said he wanted to be seen, when he said that he wanted to be visible, what he'd always had in mind was for it to be a deterrent, a symbol of moon knight and his capabilities; and a warning, because there was little else that allowed blood to stand out so starkly.

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?

[oomfies]

[ He's a little more believable, talking about faith and gods and what he knows to do with them, when he looks like this. A little decrepit, and in dire need of rest. And while he isn't in his preferred state of dress — a warning, a symbol — he's intimidating in his own way (the single minded way as he lugged his body up, out of his own grave and into this world, is an example still fresh in her mind).

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.

[vestments]

( it doesn't, truthfully, occur to marc that he's intimidating like this. in a vague, general sense, marc knows he's not very approachable — marlene had inferred as much once, outright stated it twice or more, whilst calling him steven and asking him why he couldn't just be steven before he lost himself in the identities he'd chosen to assume, before marc or steven or jake, whichever of the three it had been, had finally, eventually, been something approaching honest with her about the three of them.

and marc's not particularly sure which came first: the lack of approachability or the dawning realisation that for as much as marc had hated marc, steven had to and marlene wasn't very much a fan of him either, and it was — had been — a lot easier and simpler to not exist, to not have a day-to-day life that had any purpose beyond being moon knight.

jean-paul had been the only one of them to seem to find friendship in marc specifically, but marc has always thought that frenchie would be able to make friends with near enough anyone or anything if he decided to put his mind to it. certainly, marc had never been looking for friendship, and yet frenchie had found him anyway.

lottie answers and it's in the same haltingly questioning way she'd answered before and it takes marc until she's fidgeting with her hair and choosing her words, the decision for each evident in her expression, that it's not just the question itself that's making her hesitant.

(fuck.)

he sighs, quiet and frustrated, and shifts his weight, gaze skirting along the edge of the path.

by nature, marc is not an innately questioning man — he's very good at following orders and any doubt that might seep into his consciousness or his conscience is easy to shove to one side, to compartmentalize until it shifts from a quiet knocking to yelling, a cacophony of sounds accompanied by steven and jake. so she's been here ten months? sure, fine, that's believable. (and he does believe her, even if the pull of his brows implies otherwise to anyone to that doesn't know him). )

I just meant I got the impression ( heh ) that it was more urgent than that.

( assuming he'd understood it all correctly, which—

is not always true. khonshu has always made that quite clear — marc is a man who does not always see the grander picture, doesn't always put the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together the right way. )

[oomfies]

[ She hears that sigh and it makes her want to sigh, the bubbling feeling that she somehow flubbed this all up sinking into her skin. She chances a glance (one that she hopes looks measured and completely put together and not at all waiting to see his reaction) back at him the moment following, finds herself.. Hm. Hardly soothed by the furrow of his brows and she doubles down on the idea he thinks she's a total weirdo.

Which is fair, because she is, but that can't be the weirdest thing here, right?

He's looking for his Egyptian god and Lottie has been trapped here without wifi or any signs of living family for ten months. Normal, right?

And the thing is, he did understand it correctly. Everyone is graced with that nightmare inducing, skin crawling, vision. Unfortunately, she's had it twice. It means she remembers it with a little more clarity than she'd like — than how she'd treat any other dream.

Again, she wishes she could just talk to him through communion, instill on him thoughts and feelings and memories to make the explanation easier. One less word she'd have to let slip from her mouth, one less acknowledgement, because she thinks that too. Has been aggravated and irritated (relieved?) at the colossally slow pace things are at.

But as much as she wants to let him know, she doesn't. Lottie reminds herself to respect his space. She doesn't think about the chance he's be able to see the way she feels though, see her thoughts spill so plainly across her face. Some of them settling on: yeah, Marc is intimidating, but he's also lost (she forces herself to remember this). Asking a question but without really asking, phrasing it in a way that she knows he isn't completely doubting her.

She's still of the same, flighty energy, she was before, only now she's less stiff, less worried about what he'll think and moreso how he'll take this. ]

Yeah, it is. [ 'To me, it is,' goes unsaid. ] But I don't know anymore.

[ It physically pains her to say this, makes her suck air through her teeth, but she isn't lying— ]

It's complicated. It's about more than us and our worlds.

[vestments]

( marc doesn't think she's weird. it doesn't even occur to him — despite the mundanity of her answers in the face of relative absurdity — to think that's something she's concerned about because marc is wholly, entirely used to objectively weird and strange situations and people.

it's complicated, and the utterance hangs between them, marc unsure and undecided on how he wants to take that. it's about more than us. marc's used to that, too, but—

but.

it's difficult to ignore the tight, cold coil of anxiety in the pit of his stomach that whispers names at him: marlene, jean-paul, gena. if his world's gone, are they gone too? or are they here, somewhere beneath the tree still or are they wherever lottie's taking him? they'd been there with him, in the hospital or in his mind, he's not sure which, but they'd been there and now he's here with lottie. )

Fine. ( abruptly, almost disinterestedly, as if he's made a decision that none of what lottie's said really matters right now. it's a tense, forced 'whatever' in all but phrasing.

he looks beyond her again, and then back over his shoulder at where they've come from making no indication as to whether he's looking for something or simply weighing things up in his mind, regardless of how much he wants to stand there and call out for khonshu, demand (beg) for his attention because he was supposed to tell marc what to do, for fuck's sake—. )

How long until we get to ( what had she called it? ) —Highstorm?

[oomfies]

[ And there it is, the answer (the tone) she initially expected. The answer she initially dreaded, because as much as she can understand the nuance to his tone doesn't mean that she wants him to associate it with her. It settles strangely in her belly, a sensation that makes her feel weirdly lightheaded as if she were the one at fault.

(She isn't, she knows she isn't, but Marc's tone doesn't make it easier for her. ]

Just a sec.

[ And because of that, she, equally, doesn't give him anything more. Only the sound and sight of her footsteps leading the two of them out of the cavern that led them down to that tree. Lottie completely misses the way he tries to glance back at all he progress they've made, too worried about how disinterested he sounds to think of anything more.

She swipes at her forehead, sighing, ]

Once we go down this curve we'll hit the rock.. Then you'll be at Highstorm.

[vestments]

( marc has never been much of a conversationalist at the best of times, and so it doesn't occur to him that lottie's lack of response is anything to do with how he is or anything out of the ordinary. it doesn't occur to him — won't occur to him — that he's making this awkward or difficult for her in any shape or form. he'll assume, instead, that this is just what she does: go to the tree with snacks, lead people out and not be especially talkative.

the sigh, then, barely registers. marc glances at her simply because the noise catches his attention before she speaks, but he doesn't think anything else of it. assumes it's related to the journey, not him.

he hums a noise of acknowledgement and doesn't point out that she doesn't really answer his question — he'd hoped for time or distance as with one or the other he'd be able to estimate the other, but it's neither here nor there. it's not important. close enough, he guesses.

without warning, without indication, he replies to her answer with a question completely unrelated— ) If I wanted to find out if someone else is here, how would I do that? ( not a phonebook, clearly. )

[oomfies]

[ Distance is a concept she's never concerned herself with — now, or ever. She feels emboldened by that fact when you can simply teleport around using rocks (because, as she failed to mention in any capacity to her new friend, they're special — this is on top of being birthed from a magic tree). Why measure miles when you can just think of where to go?

And even if his question is entirely off topic, completely unrelated, it's welcome. It's a nice distraction from the weird amalgamation that is her mood shifting as frequently as the ground beneath her feet. There's that corner she mentioned, her pace finding some purpose at the sight of it, where the path curves. ]

..Communion.

[ She already knows how he feels about being touched that way, so she lets the idea linger. ]

It's the easiest way of getting a face [ Or idea, memories, impressions, something she figures Marc understands from her own communion with him, ] across, unless you wanna hire a painter to do it.

[vestments]

( it's the answer he thought she was going to give and it's the answer he'd been hoping she wasn't going to give because he hates it. in spite of her quote-unquote communion with him, he's still not — unsurprisingly — all that clear on how it works, but isn't enamored enough with the general idea to try.

he eyes her, expression pulling together in quick distaste and he shakes his head. no, he thinks, except—? maybe? ( no. ) he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. marlene and frenchie and gena, none of them had particularly wanted anything more to do with him, broadcasting their faces to the public would be a stellar way to ensure that sentiment continued. there'd be easier ways. quieter, more subtle ways.

(or: marc would explore, building by building in the middle of the night, looking for any sign of any one he knows.) )

Easy doesn't mean it's the most effective, ( he grumbles, low and almost petulant.

and the suggestion of hiring a painter doesn't even warrant a response at all, so he ignores it, attention shifting to the corner, the curve of the path and he—

—doesn't understand anything of why they've come to a stop. )

[oomfies]

[ Wow!! She's just trying to be helpful?? Lottie will ignore the fact her practical suggestions are met with distaste. Visual and verbal distaste. What's the big deal? Easy doesn't mean it's he most effective, he says, like it's somehow her fault everyone has an entry ticket to his brain whenever they want.

Her own lips frown deep, having to physically keep her arms down so she doesn't cross them in her working irritation. ]

They'd be able to hear you if they are here, but whatever. Go off.

[ Be weird and stubborn, she thinks to herself, as he dutifully comes to a stop when she does. Really, the cornerstone itself isn't anything to gawk at. It's not even carved into any shape to make its presence entirely obvious. It is just a rock. A black, shimmering, magic infused rock that she gestures towards.

She takes off a glove — the one to her right hand, the only one with nails still on it. ]

I'm gonna take you to Highstorm and then I'm gonna come back here. You'll be on your own unless you wanna wait for me or something.. Any questions?

[vestments]

( eventually, it might occur to marc that he's spent their entire meeting being difficult and exceptionally unappreciative, but in the meantime the atmosphere between hangs awkward and tense; and the look he gives her when she says they'd be able to hear him is wary and slightly doubtful, not because he doesn't believe her but because he doesn't know what he'd be doing — yelling into a void? broadcasting to everyone? would they get his feelings, too? his and steven's and jake's? it's discomforting to consider, so he quashes it deep down to the bottom of his chest to worry about later.

marc has a lot of questions, but none of them are any he wants to ask someone that doesn't know him. he wants to wash his hands and clean his clothes, pull himself together a little bit more because none of this makes any sense, not really. lottie's given him answers, but they're ""answers"", things that he still needs to make heads and tails of alongside the rest of his life. he still needs to put everything together and work out how much he thinks is real and true, and how much could be anything in-between. )

No. ( questions, he means, but also the rest of it. it's a blanket answer and he almost leaves it just at that before—.

right. ) I'll be fine, thank you. ( he can be capable of manners and politeness, mostly when he takes the time to think about it. ) I need to shower.

[oomfies]

[ ..Right. Why did she expect more out of him? She withholds the sigh that desperately wants to come out so she can, instead, reach out her other hand to him (that's right, to hold). The exposed one — the one that shows him just how unmarred her skin is, how soft it looks, untouched from the struggles of this war and labor — places itself palm down at the top of the cornerstone. Her lips twist, the rock cold beneath her palm, and her nails titter (click click click) at the surface as she waits. ]

Find Yima's manor. You can't miss it.. You'll get set up there.

[ She means: you can definitely take a shower. And.. Her eyes flick at his clothes. He can definitely have someone give him something to wear, too. ]

Or head to the bathhouse. You have options.

[vestments]

( a flash of wariness, and he reaches his hand out to her. he still doesn't know what she's doing, not really, but he mirrors her actions all the same. where her hand is soft and smooth, his is dirty, physically and metaphorically, rough from years spent holding weapons, from years punching and fighting, small scars lining his fingers here and there, callouses evident where there are no scars.

you'll get set up there, she says, and marc nods, accepting in spite of the doubt, in spite of the cool, cold dread of unknowing that makes itself known. marc can't remember the last time he was in a living space with other people. she adds that he has options and, for some reason, the thought strikes him as funny, the barest glimmer of amusement flashing across his features. )

Do I? ( do any of them, really?

(is he talking about showers...?) ) That's cute. ( ...probably not. )