songerein | Player Event: "Imbalance" [OPEN]

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Player Event: "Imbalance" [OPEN]

Who: Everyone! Even the newcomers! What a time to jump in, huh?
Which: OPEN Dreamscape
What: On the night of the 10th a strange dreamscape appears, dividing some dreamers into two, each bearing just half of themselves... how will they pull themselves together?
Warnings: Probably a lot. I trust you fine people to please mark your content appropriately should your threads make mention of anything triggering. I'm watching you.

Quiet nights never seem to stay quiet. It began with the slightest flicker within the crystal lanterns, a ripple, perhaps the sound of coins clinking together.

Then, with a distant scream, there was a torrent of blue and orange flame. It's hot but it doesn't burn, swirling and dancing with the frenzy of a desperate dancer. It blinds to familiar surroundings, twin colors that seemingly never end...

Until one's feet touches sand-dusted stone and marble. The air is hot and arid, ripe with burning kindling in myriad torches that line walkways. The flames rhythmically sway, catching the glimmer of golden archways and decor that embed the city... palace...? That lay before you.

Something is wrong. Really wrong. Something in you feels... different. Blank. But before you can comprehend it much further, something is running down the pathway in the distance to enter the palace like the devil was on its heels. That something looks just like you...

You pursue this weird other you... or, you don't. Perhaps you were drawn to the palace's splendor and decided to explore, maybe find some sweet treasure while you're here. Whatever the case, nothing about this place smells dusty or aged. It feels brand new... lined with statues and tapestries of what appeared to be great warriors, all humanoid and bearing twisted horns atop their heads and long, craggy tails covered in scales. But some of them have been altered in some way... some are missing their heads, and one or two "lucky" ones have simply had large claw marks ripped across their face. What would put claw marks in stone was anyone's guess.

Those who tire of the architecture may find some doors are unlocked. Yes, such a lavish place seems all too eager to lay itself bare for you, perhaps bearing a sparkly trinket or two to your liking. (Note: Unfortunately, any treasures obtained in the palace will only come back with you in the form of candies shaped as said jewels, crowns made of shortbread, tapestries spun from candy floss, etc. It's all food. Enjoy!)

Deeper and deeper you delve, either arms full of treasure or having bumped into friends who don't exactly act like your friends normally would, you find more motifs of the warriors, more intact the further you head through this weird city-palace. Near the center are statues depicting two... figures... each holding a pair of scales.

Yet no matter how much you wait and watch them, the scales continue to sway from one side to the other. There's nothing on their respective plates, however... what could be throwing them off?

If you place anything on the plates and mend the swaying scales, you are given a single shard of a strange crystal rife with dreamotion energy with a sense of wholeness and connection. It shifts colors as you turn it this way and that in your hand. Maybe that'll help put some of these people back together if fighting or talking to them won't do it...

[ooc: Information and Plotting post is here for easy review. The shards are meant to simplify putting people back together if needed, but are the only thing that can be taken into the semi-waking world as a pretty bauble. Also, a reminder that this is optional. Enjoy!]

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[ For what it's worth, it seems this giant, living statue is listening to her, the weight of her words heavier than his own armor. ]

Follow me.

[ "So if I die... "

What suffering, this, and all from someone so young.

He cannot help her in the way that she needs. But, perhaps, he can assist in finding a way out of this dream for her sake. ]

"Mhm... but what if I wanted you to look? Perhaps you insult me by averting your eyes."

A brief, mock pout aside, her countenance continued its steely, unflinching nature.

"I'm curious now. This is... a culture thing, isn't it? No peeking until the wedding night, perhaps? Won't know if a lady perhaps has a third nipple - triple the fun - until you sneak under the bodice...?"

She shook her head. "No, no, no... you're being humble, now. We are all pitiful and must find some means of making ourselves useful."

With a sweep of her hands, the xaela gestured to the spread.

"What am I, if I cannot cook? If nobody enjoys anything I prepare? What is left, then? But your folk... are magnificent. I would like to be very tall and very pretty. Alas... I am just a little creature, wretched and small."

A pause.

"Perhaps that's why nothing here pleases you. You haven't had a bite."

She gestured to the other statues, an amused smile on her face.

"Are these not, Ser...? We xaela descend from dragons, as they say. The Dravanians of my world would simply tremble beneath our might. Fortunately for them, we've no present quarrel with them."

A pause.

"Unless one of us decides it's time to teach them a lesson. Oh, I'd like that very much. Their scales would make beautiful armor."

"No, no, not at all!" Hythlodaeus insists. "I am simply... confused." First that girl claiming he did something marvelous that actually managed to help the star much less a single person, and now this?

Though truth be told... he doesn't really want to try any of it. A truly selfish, far-too-picky thought that he immediately feels guilty for, but a truth nonetheless.

She seems so proud of her work. And perhaps he is the wrong here. For all he knows, it might taste better than it looks. And smells.

And jiggles.

"Would you take a seat and join me?" The coward's way out, he thinks, but perhaps with his mask concealing his expression and an attempt to mimic what he can see of her own expression while she eats, he might be able to salvage this.

Hythlodaeus smiles and gestures to a chair. "Food is always better when eaten among friends, I say, and I can hardly eat a feast like this alone."

"Well, well... pistols in their heels, battling as a dance. I like these Umbra Witches immensely already."

Don't mind her taking her personal seat across the lap.

"I do enjoy a little dancing. How about you?" What can she say? Dancing seemed to appeal to both sides of her, but if she were honest, the violent aspects of it were most of the draw.

This man seemed light on his feet. How was he on the dance floor?

She propped a hand on her hip. The smirk implored him without a word to, by all means, rephrase things for her.

But he had to go and ask obnoxious questions instead. Phooey. Her arms sank into a careless shrug.

"Who wouldn't, among those who know of the Little Sun? My Nhaama, my Nhaama, I need to find my Nhaama...! Pathetic. He needed to lead instead of going on some idiotic quest for a warm body to stick his wick into! It's no wonder the Warrior whipped the everliving shit out of him in the Naadam!"

She brought her hands together, her smile tight venom as her eyes glimmered in newfound steel.

"Like chowing on a plate of buuz, pieces of shit like HIM decide they want to keep picking and peeling and plucking each until they find one with the right filling, tossing aside ones with even a small seam, a crinkle, maybe not enough meat. Such a romantic quest...! Makes me all warm n' fuzzy-wuzzy inside!"

[At least her desire to cook was not out of necessity or pressure. That was a relief to him. But as she spoke on he couldn't help but frown a little at how she felt. There was another dish out and their numbers of customers were decreasing at least.]

You need not be imposing to still be a force of nature, you know. You're better staying true to yourself.

[Whoops! Soups were done. He'll dish a few of those out.]

I think... It's important to remember that both sides of you are important. They may two different concepts entirely, but they perfectly balance you out.

You're perfect the way you are, flaws and all.

Well, that was an opinion to have of Magnai. Sure, his search for his Nhaama had been... interesting... to say the least. (Especially after talking to Y'shtola about her run in with the man.) But, he wouldn't have put it like that.

"So, someone looking for love doesn't fit in your description of a Khatun. I see." He moves to look at one of the broken statues, taking in the broken face of the former Khatun who sat upon the throne.

"What would you do instead, then?"

[Well. It would appear one of the fragments at least seems to at least admit they are merely components of a greater whole. Yet where most would be tempted to think the elder an ally for this fact, he is not so sure. ...There must be something flawed in him, something lacking, that the younger brings to him.

So he is to be careful.

His gaze moves from the elder, after a respectful dip of his head. His focus then travels to the younger. To the first problem to assess.]

There is nothing to forgive. It has ever been my duty to assist you and our brethren with yours. ...And perhaps, Emet-Selch, I would not advise you to heed what is said within this place. Merely to hear it, and to make your own decision based upon all of the information divulged.

...A decision I am confident will be the correct one.

[Reassuring. Calm. Serene, in the face of such disorder. And nothing else should be expected of him. A hint of a smile crosses his lips, and then his gaze moves to the elder, the smile still (ever so faintly!) present.]

[To the younger:] I would know more of the term you used. Of debasing our star. Such is contradictory to the oaths each of us has made, is it not? So please. Explain.

[To the elder:] I would also have your response. For I think time has altered you, Emet Selch. Yet I do not think anything would suffice to change the man I know you to be.

Edited 2022-09-23 22:53 (UTC)

She clapped a hand to her chest and gaped incredulously his way.

"Ser... you must say that to everyone, don't you?" Yet here she was, taking a seat and getting a load off of her feet. She really had been building blisters in her heels skittering about the kitchen to put all this together.

"I'm merely the help, but... I can't say 'no' when you offer so earnestly." She took up a fork and hesitated. Hungry though she was, he was her guest.

"Do be honest, though. I won't improve unless I know where such a thing is needed. I won't be fit for the Scions unless I'm always honing my craft, like a weapon in need of an ever keener blade."

"Why can't you and who doesn't have bad days? Mayhaps, today is not your day."

Alisaie doesn't know her but the more she keeps hearing these things, the more it frustrates her. Being someone who has trouble asking for help herself, she somewhat understands where Madhuri is coming from. However, choosing consoling words isn't the way she speaks, unfortunately.

She watches as the food fall through their forms and splatters to the floor. She makes a face as it lands on the ground.

"Who cares what they think? You shouldn't let "crass" people like that dictate your mood. Surely, they have better things to do than criticize you. If you can't cook well, then find something else you're good at. If you really want to cook, then get someone who knows what they're doing to help."

Edited 2022-09-24 01:23 (UTC)

"Something significantly more respectful! It's the WAY he goes about it! Women of the Steppe are treasures all, experts in their chosen weapons, archers, hunters, warriors. A simple refusal would have sufficed! We are not so brittle, despite our smaller statures."

She spat to the side, and hit a broken statue.

"'Too skinny'. 'Not graceful enough'." A pause, and she tapped her chin as if to recall something.

"Ah, yes... I remember now: 'Nothing. Get her out of my sight.'"

Her smile was serene as she turned her gaze back to Thancred.

"My first great feast. So much anger burned inside for so long, but it was never enough! I was starving... Gods, I was such a happy Beast that day, but my happiness could do nothing against the sorrow of a humiliated, foolish heart."

She made long strides to approach him, hands coyly entwined behind her back.

"Instead I soothed that heart. I told it, no, no... that shit-for-brains has no worth to you. Let him wallow in his self-made loneliness. We will forever hate him for the humiliation he caused. We have worked too hard to be nothing."

She raised her hands and grabbed fistfuls of his clothing. With surprising force, she backed him against a wall and held him solid.

"I would rule with passion, Ser Thancred! Ferocity! I would make men and women of all races shiver in awe... in envy. Songs of my victories would be sung for generations amid the Qalli tribe, how one of THEM finally held the throne!"

Her laugh was low and soft, honey and silk. She leaned closer.

"...I would take lovers in my bed, all shapes and sizes, and praise them for their prowess. Their vigor. But I would choose only one in the end... one whose children I would in turn be honored to carry."

Hythlodaeus stares down at the gelatin-encased entree.

A black olive and a green olive stare back up at him.

He takes a steadying breath and steels himself, taking a fork that might as well be a toothpick between his fingers and scooping up some blood red, tomato-y, vegetable-y thing.

It's hardly a bite, but he freezes in place from the taste all the same. A moment of silence passes, and then Hythlodaeus forces a smile.

"'Tis... better than some dishes I've had in the past,"--the bit of Cubus he tried as a child on a dare comes to mind as an example--"but perhaps this might work better as a soup?"

[She shook her head.]

But it's too much, G'raha Tia. I lose my temper, I fight...! Some days I wonder if I simply belong on the Steppe.

[Upon placing the pies gently, as if they were made of glass, up high to cool... She sighed, and brought the heel of a hand to an eye to mop up the fresh tears. Her voice was near to breaking from all the stress. And now she was oversharing. Perfect. Great work, Madhuri. Sodding idiot.]

I hate being on the fence like this. I feel like a coward. I don't... I don't know what to do any more. There's a hole inside me, I know, but what used to be there is so dangerous, it's so much trouble...

I just... I just want to be happy. With myself, for once. But I've made a massive mistake now, and... and...

I haven't grown stronger at all, have I? Everything's broken! I broke it! I deserve this!

[It didn't take him long to move in to pull her into a hug. Caressing her head gently, he pet her as his fingers ran through her hair.]

I cannot say if you belong on the Steppe or not, but I can say this much. You will always have a place to belong with me.

Everyone makes mistakes and even though this is a bigger oopsy, there will always be a solution for those who seek it. To err is a common occurrence. Nothing is impossible.

You don't deserve to be mistreated or harassed. I won't allow it.

[In the first moment, she stiffened in his touch, like a stranger who had never received anything like this before. But rather than pull away and insist she wasn't worth any of it, he was... he was offering, wasn't he?

She softened and only hardly bunched some of his shirt in her fingers, her face buried against his shoulder. The way he spoke was so familiar, but she couldn't quite reach out and grab hold of precisely why. It was familiar, it was warm... it was home.

With no fight left in her, she wept. Slowly, her arms found their way around him. This was okay, right? This... was something she could have, even after all the mistakes she'd made?

The statues lining the walls shuddered. With a gentle creak, the scales- so tipped though they were- slowly centered and came to a pause, the dishes gently bobbing up and down. Something glittered in one of those dishes.]

I don't know... how you put up with it all. I don't think I'll ever stop thinking you're too important to get wrapped up with the likes of me sometimes.

[Her colors were muted, but they were very, very subtly there.]

I thought that, if I did something like this, I'd be more like ... more like someone worth all that effort. To everyone, and... and you, as well.

[It was definitely okay. Let it out, Maddie. He had noticed some movement, but that was something that he could look into in a bit. Comforting her was much more important to him.]

I put up with it because you are the color in my life. You make every day exciting and fresh for me. I could not imagine falling in love with anybody but you.

You are my world.

You don't have do anything to prove that. You're already worth all of my time.

Yeah. It's...a long story, but my father was considered the biggest traitor among demons. By freeing their human slaves and sending the demons back to Hell, he made a lot of enemies. And his enemies aren't beyond attacking his family. It makes it difficult to live anything resembling a normal life, so I...don't.

(The man smiles, weakly.)

But hey, it's not so bad of a problem if they only focus on me. They can't hurt my friends if I don't let myself have any friends. I bet you'd be a great one to have, though.

Oh, he doesn't mind at all. The queen demands her throne and is settling for a footstool. His grin widens.

"Babe, I can dance the night away. Gimme a partner and a beat and I'll show you where the rhythm will take me."

Dante leans in a little, his voice softer in her ear.

"And I'll take you with me."

[The younger Emet-Selch remains quiet while Elidibus speaks, his stern expression betraying some hint of emotion, and when that patient and reassuring smile (subtle though it may be) is at last cast upon him, he relents with a sigh. "The correct decision"? That's some faith you have in him, Themis.]

[He is aware, too, of another pair of eyes upon him, and he pauses a long, considered moment, before his frown finally settles into something resolute.]

...If you would have me heed and hear, then it is only right that you should be presented with the truth of what befell our star. 'Tis hardly a telling for the faint of heart, and a burden I'd have much preferred that none have to bear.

[He glances aside, and thus he begins:]

It all started with a cry, a terrible keening sound from within the depths of Etheirys. The aetherial currents had grown stagnant, and our very star begun to rot. Life and the very laws of creation soured, and we were all afraid.

"Three dooms to unmake all that we were... "

The first beast was striking in its unsightliness. It called down a cataclysmic deluge, yet even its defeat did not halt the coming march of oblivion. Through our dread, and I will admit, our despair, creation magicks ran unchecked, giving rise to malformed beasts and abominations, manifesting our deepest fears. The sickness soon spread, and the fabric of the very star began to fray.

The sun scorched the earth, boiled seas... the lands buckled, cities burned and rivers ran red with blood.

Thus did the second doom break us, giving birth to terror. A terror which, in turn, gave birth to new beasts. Fiery rain fell from the heavens, and fear began to take root within the land itself, incapable of being expunged. Thus did the third doom undo us. Its voice was fulgent destruction, and none could bar its path. As it edged inexorably closer, we knew...

Without decisive sacrifice, our star would perish.

[...]

...through many long and sleepless sessions, we of the Convocation at last landed upon a solution to save Etheirys and reinstate the flow of aether. We would summon a vastly powerful being, a god, and make manifest the will of our star to halt the coming doom.

Zodiark.

Edited 2022-09-24 15:05 (UTC)

He notices the shift in her expression, and a pang of guilt mixes with understanding. "My apologies. It must be difficult, being so far and yet so close to home. Much as I enjoy Reverein, I too find myself somewhat homesick on occasion."

He pauses a moment, and hums softly in thought. "Although... you are not the only one of your friends here. When you awaken from this dream within a dream, why not work with them to bring a little piece of Etheirys to this world? A sanctuary of your very own."

"Demons? That seems a bit much. Miss Madhuri--the young lady I know who belongs to this race--may be somewhat mischievous by nature, but she is hardly what I would call a demon," Hythlodaeus replies as he does as Ren asked.

"Though I confess the meaning of the word in your world may be quite different than it is in my own."

That elicits a delighted little shiver, and she rewarded him with a fond little scratch beneath that scruffy chin.

"Oooh- A dance partner...! Aren't you eager to please~? Is this something you tell all the 'Umbra Witches' in your life?"

[It was funny... hearing things like this, and not for the first time, always had a way of having her feel like she could start believing it. She knew she had her good days as well as her bad days, and this had to be one of her absolute worst.

She'd torn herself in half. She remembered now.

Maybe it was finally time to start making a real effort to be the person worth all of those words. She'd told Alisaie she couldn't reach out for help. Wouldn't dare.

Madhuri was quiet a while. She needed to feel him, feel those colors return to her as she felt... warmer. Like someone in place.]

...I love you. I'm... nearly sick realizing that splitting like I had made me forget you. In this part, anyway.

This needs fixing. H-how do I smush myself back together...? I don't think any reality should deal with two of me.

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Page 8 of 17

Player Event: "Imbalance" [OPEN]

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The Third Seat

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