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songerein2022-09-10 12:54 pm
songbird_slayer) wrote in songerein2022-09-10 12:54 pm
Entry tags:
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!]
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!]
no subject
...Yet he cannot. Even thinking it seems a sacrilege. For each and every one of those lives were special to another. The optics of a matter were nothing to those that mourned. And...
And...
Absorbed by this god, Zodiark...
They were lost. Never to return to the star. Never to go, contentedly, gladly, with the pride that their lives were an undertaking well done. Never to be reborn. Never to reap the fruits of their hard work and never to experience the beauty of their world once more.
It is terrible. Truly terrible. His head is bowed. His gaze is fixed on the ground.
And yet, there is hope. When Emet-Selch speaks of offering up the new life that might eventually be cultivated into flourishing on their star to Zodiark in a form of exchange for those lost, he looks up to both forms of the same man, his eyes wide.
It is something that would set the star back, themselves back, generations. Of that he is sure. Yet...
The thought of the ethics behind that, as well as all the hope that comes with it, is extinguished in his final statement. And that...
To him, it is something just as galling.]
Our people have never been in disagreement regarding any matter in all of our history.
[Much less one so important.]
...Enet-Selch... What happened to the counselor of the people?
[Azem would have surely worked tirelessly to bring them all into accord. Their dear friend would have made them see. ...Wouldn't they?]
no subject
[Something raw flickers across Emet-Selch's face, something that not even duty, not even the responsibility of seeing this tale told and presented reasonably can manage to snuff out.]
[His shoulders droop somewhat, and they again seem heavy, weary.]
No, they hadn't. Yet there is always a first time for everything. Despite our best efforts, our differences could not be bridged. Venat's group refused to allow any more sacrifices, and we refused to abandon those brethren who were lost.
[...]
no subject
[He'd remained silent until now, but in this moment the other Emet-Selch slowly unfolds from where he is seated and rises to his full (bowed) height.]
What happened, you ask? The answer, Elidibus, is simple. The individual of whom you speak refused to choose. Neither taking the side of the Convocation nor the side of their dearly beloved teacher.
[There's a hint of a snarl in Emet-Selch's voice as he speaks of Venat.]
In short, they abandoned us and their duty. Never to be seen again.
Not that there was much time left, mind you, for our two gods were pitted against one another. They fought, and they fought, and they fought. And with a mighty blow, Hydaelyn struck Lord Zodiark down so soundly that his very essence was shattered into ten and thirteen reflections.
Yet it did not stop there.
[Emet-Selch's arm sweeps behind him to where the orbs hover about the ampitheatre. His expression is one of suppressed fury and anguish.]
The very star itself was sundered - along with all life upon it. Three of our number survived.
no subject
He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he regards the older of the Emet-Selchs.]
That's quite enough of that. While I believe the majority of your recollection of events, I must draw a line when it comes to your evaluation of Azem.
Ever have they pursued what they believed to be the best for the star and its people. Though they may have followed a path that diverged from both the Convocation's and Venat's, I will not have you tell me they abandoned anyone. Not by choice.
no subject
What, then? Would you prefer a slightly altered evaluation? They left. On a fool's errand, no doubt. If they had at least chosen a side, if they had at least stayed, they might have made a difference one way or another.
Instead, they died in disgrace.
no subject
And that Hythlodaeus refutes the information provided is plain. Themis' eyes move toward the younger of the two Emet-Selchs though- taking in his expression. The pain in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders- the way that even so resolute a soul threatens- just for a moment- to waver.
It all but confirms it.
There is truth in what the elder says. It is plain- writ upon the face of his younger half. Both halves bear the same tale. Nothing is contradictory- and despite the fact that time has certainly appeared to change the sadness, the vulnerability of the younger into the elder's scorn, all tallies.
So.
He closes his eyes, willing away the personal details that Hythlodaeus has questioned. That he wants to question very much, not least at the fate of his friend. The mention of Venat as a detractor is something new to him as well- and something that yes, he would like to question.
Yet displaying horror or disbelief would not help. Nor would asking questions. For they are an indulgence not to be his. As his eyes open again, he speaks only as his Seat would have him speak.]
...
And yet, those that survived would be in accord. As there is breath in our bodies, our duty does not end.
[He moves his gaze to the elder. Both to give the younger a moment to recollect himself, and to listen.
...His voice is morose. For he knows that what he would ask is a painful thing.]
Like any of us of the Convocation, I think you still hold your duty close to your heart. And from my knowledge of you- Emet-Selch, I know that it guides you- in all things.
...So, I would have you detail it. For the benefit of all present.
no subject
[Emet-Selch's eyes harden as he glances to his younger half, and to Hythlodaeus who is no doubt still coming to terms with Azem's departure. His attention then returns to Elidibus as he inhales - slowly, and discreetly - a stabilizing breath.]
Indeed, in the early days following the Sundering duty was all we had. Now where were we?
To our horror, what life had managed to hang on by a thread was malformed, twisted, disturbing... Magicks all but vanished from the world, along with language, culture, and civilization.
We turned our efforts instead to devising a way to repair what had been broken. If we could find a manner through which to combine each of the thirteen shards back into the original Source, we surmised, we might restore what remained of our world and with it the fragments of our fallen god. And thus began our great work: the Rejoining. Our first attempt, I will confess, ended in failure, but learning from our mistakes, our efforts at last gave rise to the First Umbral Era.
Meanwhile. Life, as it does, finds a way... slowly, painstakingly slowly did these new mortal races begin to evolve, to reclaim the use of tools, to establish towns and simple fields of study. In time they confirmed what we had already guessed. Some of the souls within these fledgling lifeforms were similar in color and resonance to those we had lost. Yet none could remember their lost world - not really.
no subject
[This time, even despite his best effort, he cannot help but wince. It is terrible. Too terrible- Just as painful as hearing of the eventualities of those he loved. But worse, somehow. It is emptiness- a hole. A great gaping void, experienced wholly, rawly- unexperienced ever before. All the harder to endure, given that he had never- and never had any reason- to feel anything like it before now.
It is only a fraction of the pain Emet-Selch had carried with him all of these years. These few moments, a fleeting instant of the near eternity Emet-Selch had spent with it as his only companion.
Gathering himself is difficult. ]
...
[Extremely difficult. It takes willpower. So very much of it- yet his voice is clear. Steady. Contemplative.]
Life, as it does, finds a way. ...And provided a viable source of exchange while it was at it.
[He turns to the younger Emet-Selch.]
You, as well as the rest of our brethren within the Convocation, resolved yourselves to harvest the life that would be birthed by our star anew in exchange for those we loved, did you not?
[His eyes betray nothing. His stance is assured. The only indicator of awful this particular impartial assessment is, is his voice. It is so low now. Almost nothing.]
...Taking life... to reform our star into something that would make our recovery plausible once more... To make our sacrifices worth something...
[An exhale.]
An extra step, to return those we loved to us...
...Does not sound the action of a monster, nor of a madman. More a harrowing task. One that would bring about untold sorrow. Unfathomable despair. Yet for all of us, Emet-Selch, you commenced upon it. You sacrificed yourself, as much as any of us did. If not in your body, then in your soul.
1/2
...we did. For the sake of those who had placed their faith in us and our plan. How, after all, could the three of us possibly hope to nurture what little remained of our star alone?
[His brow furrows again, fists clenching at his sides.]
Yet what he has not told you is the process. To rejoin one of the shards with the Source requires enormous quantities of aether of a carefully chosen aspect - typically brought about by a cataclysmic, world-changing event. We each developed our own methods of ushering forward such a tipping point, but the results are much the same.
Such an event causes a tear in the Source, through which the reflection's aether is then funneled and absorbed. The shard is destroyed, obliterated, along with all life upon it, and calamity befalls the Source. Destruction for the sake of salvation. Untold carnage. Loss of life and knowledge and culture. Entire empires manipulated into bringing about their own downfall and the destruction of their worlds. Are such acts truly any different from what befell us?
[His eyes turn to the elder Emet-Selch and pin him there, angry and conflicted.]
Should you ask me if such a thing is worth it, there is but one answer. Yet that answer does not excuse your actions, nor what choices you have made given all that you know.
You're right. I do understand your pain, and your loss, and the wretched path you've been set upon, yet our history has twisted you into the very thing you and I refused to become! How?! I told them I would never, ever fall to your level of madness, and yet here you--!
[Emet-Selch cuts himself off, his eyes widening in shock and confusion. Told them? Told who? When precisely was this? It's the oddest notion, but he could practically swear that he has been in a position much like this one at least once before.]
[Yet he can't remember it. Or can he?]
2/2
[However forgotten, there is one mystery that links them. One faded vision that seems somehow, inexplicably relevant.]
Elpis.
no subject
Unsurprisingly, he doesn't remember whatever conversation the younger may be referring to. But that doesn't mean he doubts it happened. How Kairos's effects might be unraveling now he doesn't know, but even this small snippet of a memory is enough to bring a thousand more questions forward, conversations had and brushed off without a second thought suddenly seeming much, much more relevant.
More information on these Rejoinings can wait.]
You've remembered something.
no subject
[Emet-Selch waves a dismissive hand.]
Certainly nothing concrete. I know that she and two others were with us as we toured the testing grounds with Hermes, yet anything which was said or done is a complete blur to me.
no subject
A feeling of deja vu, more like. As if I uttered these same sentiments long, long ago. Before the Sundering ever occurred, before the current "Emet-Selch" ever even existed.
Of course, such a thing is utterly ridiculous. Impossible.
no subject
I know you in particular are single-minded when it comes to your goals, but I wouldn't dismiss this feeling of deja-vu so quickly.
[He looks to the younger next.]
It may be nothing, or it may be something of great import. I can't say for certain with the information I have, but neither can I brush what I do know aside.
[He lets that hang for a second, then shakes his head.]
But this can be explored after the two of you have reconciled.
no subject
[Of course (yes) he does realize that he and the other him are two parts of the same whole. For as much as he'd like to deny it, he can feel the tug of their connection, the melding of their thoughts one with another.]
[Yet to be joined together with that... Whether or not the elder him is truly a madman (unlikely) or simply a sad, tired clown...it is still a fate which he desires not for himself. His only reason for accepting would be an assurance of success, something which even Emet-Selch cannot guarantee.]
[But what of this half-memory? Could that, possibly, open up another path? Or is it yet another spark to be followed - to have snuffed out before it can truly burn?]
[He looks to Elidibus.]
I need not ask whether reconciliation is your recommended course. Yet you would have me make that sacrifice again? I watched a man I once respected vanish before my eyes, driven mad by what befell us, by an obsessive need to leap from one form, to the next, and the next.
[He does not speak of the other.]
Even I was not unaffected, as you can well imagine. I became dead to my emotions. How else could anyone have embarked upon this mission so dispassionately?
no subject
[Instead, it seems he must contend with his foolish, sentimental other half. A necessary task, but one which will only hinder him if left unchecked.]
[Madhuri is nowhere to be seen, and the Exarch has once again slipped from his grasp. How very, very vexing.]
[Emet-Selch sighs, speaking between the four of them:]
Need you reminding? I chose our brethren, our people, those we were tasked to serve for the rest of our lives - come what may, no matter the cost, no matter the weight of the burdens we've already borne or those we've yet to bear.
Is that not what you'd have done?
no subject
...Interesting. Yet he cannot linger upon it. Nor upon the mention of the other one that survived, although the expression of claiming bodies is similar, too similar to his memories of the hemitheos.
He wants to question. Oh, he wants to. But his duty as the seat of Elidibus cannot indulge- cannot abide- it.
He is silent for a moment as he takes the role of observer. Hythlodaeus seems to know something of it, so it is his prerogative to speak; even if the (somewhat early, for his taste) mention of reconciliation would appear to be more of an insult at present than aught else.
It cannot be helped, he thinks. Hythlodaeus' words are not strategic ones, nor logical- not intended to coax or to manipulate. They are emotional. They come from concern. He must care deeply, he thinks.
...And then he is spoken to.]
I do not think your other half dispassionate. I think instead, that he is wounded by what he has had to do- That his half of your combined soul is all but bleeding out. No matter how he attempts to stymie the flow, he suffers an injury that cannot be made right by such means. And yet still, he tries to endure and press on.
[To him, it appears plain. Not wholly different- actually- from better times. He remembers Emet-Selch to have been a man that carefully wrapped his sentiment in harsh words, excessive modesty, and... honestly, some truly unique facial expressions when situation called for it.
He has not changed, in that respect.
He is still the same man. Yet bruised. beaten. bloodied. His manner is twisted. That is all.
He glances to Hythlodaeus for confirmation from his (vaunted) eye, before he directs himself fully toward the younger.]
...And you...
[Surprise. The younger Emet-Selch has not escaped assessment.]
Your half of your combined soul cries out in horror. It seeks severance, so it takes the form of yourself from your past in order to draw a line and claim the other side of it. Your half of your soul would deny everything that has transpired...
[...How very like Lahabrea and Hephaistos.]
...and render its delusion complete by ending the part of itself that knows better. It justifies this action by labelling its other half delusional, and a madman. A threat to be expunged. Yet were you to lay your other half low here and now, it would not change what has happened.
[A pause. And to both of them:]
I have made my assessment. And I would suggest a course of action that would bring about mutual benefit, if you would care to hear it.
1/2
[For all his attempts to hide them, it seems, these wounds of his were plain from the start.]
2/2
[Although he would like to deny it, there is some piece of himself desperately clinging to the past, to the person he once was and the world as it had always been. A part of himself that would have rejected - vehemently - all that later came to pass had he the opportunity and the privilege to do so.]
[Yet, mayhap, it cannot completely be rejected. And mayhap that is the very reason he so detests it. Elidibus, as much as he dislikes to admit it, isn't incorrect. And even moreso one thing is plain: even by turning away from his future, his present - that which has already come to pass cannot and will not change.]
[...Not unless he truly does find a way to unlock the secrets of time travel, perhaps. Yet even if he did - would that change anything? Could he find a way to avert the Final Days, the Sundering, the sacrifice...? He does not know of one. In the end, such thoughts are nothing but sentiment driven by heartache and loss.]
[Are they so different, then? Perhaps not. Mayhap...not at all.]
[After a long pause, the crease of Emet-Selch's brow retreats, his gaze which had wandered lifts to Elidibus's face, and then to his other half.]
...Nay. I would have chosen our future, our hope, above all else. I care not to think on the toll of such a choice. Though I well suspect the result is what stands before me now.
[The two lock eyes, but briefly. It's impossible to imagine what either of them may be thinking. But at last, the younger returns his attention to Elidibus, sparing a glance at Hythlodaeus which seems almost regretful.]
So then. What is this course you would propose to us? Understand that I do not promise my cooperation or my approval. But I will lend you my ears and your words my full consideration.