[ Come morning during early in the second half of Pelu, John will find a box has been delivered and waiting outside of his door. A fanciful card sits on top, and in elegant script reads:
Esteemed Bearer,
Please accept this token of our sincerest gratitude and proof of your efforts to combat the Blight's spread. Your assistance in procuring the flower specimens is greatly appreciated. The included mixture, when diluted in water, has been shown to slow the progression of the disease when ingested or spread directly over a degrading object. Though we still have much work to do, we will continue to experiment in hopes that this will lead us to a permanent cure.
Yours,
Yuri Vogen Greenwood Yards
Inside the box sits another decorative floral box - and inside that is a vial of a shimmering, blue-green mixture. True to word, if ingested by a person suffering from the Blight or spread over an object succumbing to its effects, it will considerably slow the progress of the affliction. There are enough for three dosages.
Next time John visits Greenwood Yards, he will also find he is greeted with great warmth - and offered a small bouquet of flowers that, when crushed and ingested (in the form of tea is suggested), permit one to cleanse their Discord by one tier. ]
he mentally collides with him. Bodies him, practically. ( Still weary, but awake and cheery despite it all. ) ]
I find it charming that you went in so willing to undo your great labors, simply because you exchanged your faction loyalties. What happened to your pride?!
Honestly, I am glad you walked back from that precipice a little. While I am a proponent of mass casualty, I would hate to see people dying so early on and while we still have so much to examine.
[ Really, he had been hoping to find some like-minded individuals who, while they would work for their faction, would not abandon their suspicion and curiosity for zealotry. Finding it in John had been a surprise, and a pleasant one. ]
Does this mean your handsome fortifications are going to be torn down, though? They are... what is the phrase used in the future — ah, metal as fxck.
[ he's starting to relax (despite set's energy) and actually appreciate the success. john had no idea if he would be any good at this. he's never needed to be because he's God and doesn't have to negotiate with people, so what a pleasant surprise. ]
And no, why tear them down now? They make people nervous.
[ the way he says it suggests this is a good thing. ]
They're everyone's bone walls now, and you're right.
[ Only a little, he says. A small kernel of ( hope / dark desire ) attentiveness flashes through Set's sense of self, that John's desire to destroy will return to the side it will best be fed by; that nebulous, free-flowing wind-sand-shadow he is, that alights at points of contact. That curls around John's back and settles there, like the god has just decided to wind his arms about him from behind and leave his chin tucked upon his shoulder.
It is a too-familiar, too-bold physicality. A sense of dominance and power play, naturally. Ultimately, if the man remains opposed to him, he'll just have to go! Right now, they're allies of interest! ]
Are you going to make the garrison out of bone as well, maybe? I think you ought to. Make it fucked up and WEIRD so everyone is on edge all the time!
[ logically, john understands that this sense of closeness only exists in the liminal space of Communion, and he wouldn't fear dying even if he could be killed this way, but his discomfort isn't physical anyway.
a very human part of him doesn't care about intentions and simply craves being close to someone else. he's been alone ever since the dust had started to settle and he realised there was no one left. it's never gotten better because time only makes it worse, as john has always held himself apart from all the others. mostly. flings never really counted.
but the people he had known the longest and had loved the most had taken advantage of that and used his weakness to betray him. he grows tense, like an animal that allows itself to be held but never stops being ready to escape as soon as there's an opening. his Discord — which has peaked following their ritual, a murder, and an extended period of time sitting next to claude — makes the feel of him abnormally cold in addition to the rest. ]
Isn't that the opposite of what we're trying to do? Is this you making good on your promise to sow chaos by doing it by proxy?
[ he's great at pretending something never happened. ignore. deflect. do not acknowledge. he's fine! everything is still a joke here!! ]
[ — the point where Communion violently begins is born from the sense of intimate connection developed between two individuals.
It is very obviously a burning, bright thing from Set, whose mind scatters into the corners of those he has forged some sort of companionship with — for duty, for responsibility, for fun, for solemn vow. What arrives is the briefest sense of rising disorientation, woven through with a burst of wrath and grief so white-hot that it might char flesh from bone within seconds, shot through with rapture and the whiplash of love. It rises like a dying, murderous sun ( like Meridian ) — stifling and acute and suffocating — only to be tempered within seconds, by the cool, crisp wash of the dark sea ( like Zenith ), tempered and soothed with all edges laid flat once more.
The Communion plunges into quiet and calm, like a great, purring beast, and ends as abruptly as it began. ]
[ whatever john was doing just then stops mattering. this time, he doesn't get swept up in it because this time, he knows where he ends and everything else begins.
he reaches out, curious but not without concern as well. whatever had caused such a flurry of emotion must be significant. how he had gotten the strong Meridian presence before the Zenith had soothed is also of interest, but for now, all questions lead to the same place. ]
[ This is not the first time they have collided within one another, courtesy of the thinned veil between them. Sometimes he finds himself looking toward Highstorm, as if he has just heard his name called by a voice that sounds like John's. ( It is a different reason he burns his way into John, contrasted to the other minds he has poured himself throughout — too large for his limited form and seeking the sprawl of eternity within others. ) ]
We found the temple.
[ The one Cassian spoke of, in Communion. The one he has admitted to being directed to by Zenith's leader. ]
I think you would have had a similar reaction, if you were here. I do not know why I think that.
[ his interest is immediate, and the tone of the Communion shifts on his end. the anxious static of concern fades, pushed aside by a hungry curiosity. he wants to know what it is and the mysteries it contains so he can figure out where to place it in his growing mental map of this world. ]
Did it remind you of home?
[ he isn't sure why he calls it home. his world hasn't felt like home in a long time. he was a wanderer, simultaneously the hunter and the hunted. never resting. a dwindling hope of ever returning to his own system because his lyctors died faster than his enemies.
at least he'd had his war.
for set's benefit then, even though he has no idea if he might feel the same way as a human might. john can only assume, remembering the image of the woman he'd seen when they'd been together in Communion with the Tree. for a moment, she had been annabel and quetzalcoatl and someone he had never seen before all at once. it's a reasonable assumption to make, but he's been wrong plenty. ]
[ John Gaius has easily become someone he enjoys speaking with. It is that voracious curiosity, the yearning he has to selfishly possess information for the sake of — what? He is up front about his desire to entrust himself to the balancing party, the Tree that speaks almost of neutrality ( although, it must have its own agenda, as well ), and he strives to learn. He is, to Set, the perfect compliment, for he yearns to obtain wisdom and knowledge and bequeath it onto others. ]
More than remind me of it, it appears of it. You have noticed the similarities between our origins and the world here, have you not? Particularly in Springstar.
[ john always enjoys exchanging ideas and the fact that he can say precisely what he's thinking. it's a good balance, even if he wasn't deliberately seeking that out. he tends to get stuck in his ways, but that's not easy to do when you have to keep up with set. ]
Do you mean their whole Roman schtick? Yes.
[ springstar was always too bright for his tastes, but he otherwise appreciated the aesthetic. it was impossible to miss the places seemingly drawn from a common source of inspiration. ]
So, the temple is the real deal? [ a pause. ] Well, I could speculate about that all day, but I'll start by asking what exactly that means to you.
[Weeks after the Exalt Oracle had been claimed, in the middle of a perfect, lovely day, one in which it might seem nothing could go wrong at all... Someone is screaming.
With no warning, no build, the equivalent of a sudden desperate, panicked pounding at the door, an attempt at Communion comes slamming into the psyche of someone nearby who shares an Aspect, accidentally connecting as her senses scatter and seek escape. There are no words, no plea for help in anything but a jumbled, inarticulate, weak longing for it, but stronger is the vicious shame, the fear, the rage, rage brighter than a blazing sun ready to flare.
There's a scalpel glinting in the light, a pain deep in the skull spreading, spreading, something that should never be touched flayed raw and pulled out, on fire at every ending. An eye, sickly green, dangles between gloved fingers, staring lifeless but fresh. There are sharp teeth smiling sadistically, the shadowy silhouette blurred by something hot and wet and a backing of bright lighting. Legs thrash, muscles bulge, but nothing gives, only skin and tendons. Ropes, straps, no matter how much she struggles she can't move, she can't fight, no, no, no, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it and it doesn't matter, it hurts, it hurts෴
[ they share an Aspect, so john has no way to shut it out even if he wants to, and it takes him a few moments not to be completely swept up by the intensity of it. he has to remind himself that the driving pain in his skull isn't really his.
his curiosity is piqued despite being unsure of what exactly he's witnessing, but the eventual sight of a scalpel and a strange eye makes him lean towards homebrew ocular surgery.
neat!
he has no intention of acting on any of this, of course. it's none of his business except the part that was interesting. once it fades to nothing, john's attention returns to his work, and whatever remains of his uncomfortable presence within Communion goes with it. ]
[ Very suddenly, there’s a sense of Communion touching your character’s mind. However, it’s as if they connect with the mind of a shared Aspect, as they’re not able to block out the brief, but sharp memory that comes to them. ]
Their friend was long gone, disappearing as Shard-Bearers sometimes do, but the jacket that they’d unintentionally left behind had provided the Shard-Bearer comfort. Tonight, they weep as they realize it no longer smelled of them.
[ ooc note — Just to avoid OOC confusion/misinterpretation, the details included in this memory are random and are not necessarily interconnected or plot meaningful beyond a surface level. However, your character is free to interpret this random memory however they’d like! This event will also be touched on somewhat during today’s NPC Communion Post. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hyperpotamous) wrote2023-03-17 10:44 am
action;
Esteemed Bearer,
Please accept this token of our sincerest gratitude and proof of your efforts to combat the Blight's spread. Your assistance in procuring the flower specimens is greatly appreciated. The included mixture, when diluted in water, has been shown to slow the progression of the disease when ingested or spread directly over a degrading object. Though we still have much work to do, we will continue to experiment in hopes that this will lead us to a permanent cure.
Yours,
Yuri Vogen
Greenwood Yards
Inside the box sits another decorative floral box - and inside that is a vial of a shimmering, blue-green mixture. True to word, if ingested by a person suffering from the Blight or spread over an object succumbing to its effects, it will considerably slow the progress of the affliction. There are enough for three dosages.
Next time John visits Greenwood Yards, he will also find he is greeted with great warmth - and offered a small bouquet of flowers that, when crushed and ingested (in the form of tea is suggested), permit one to cleanse their Discord by one tier. ]
AFTER THE FIRST AMBASSADOR GATHERING.
he mentally collides with him. Bodies him, practically. ( Still weary, but awake and cheery despite it all. ) ]
I find it charming that you went in so willing to undo your great labors, simply because you exchanged your faction loyalties. What happened to your pride?!
no subject
Well, I performed those "great labours" when I thought the point was to wipe out the opposition and get it over with.
[ things had been so simple back then.... ]
I'm buying time if anything; the longer we keep the peace around here, the longer we'll have to find answers before one side wipes out the other.
no subject
Honestly, I am glad you walked back from that precipice a little. While I am a proponent of mass casualty, I would hate to see people dying so early on and while we still have so much to examine.
[ Really, he had been hoping to find some like-minded individuals who, while they would work for their faction, would not abandon their suspicion and curiosity for zealotry. Finding it in John had been a surprise, and a pleasant one. ]
Does this mean your handsome fortifications are going to be torn down, though? They are... what is the phrase used in the future — ah, metal as fxck.
no subject
[ he's starting to relax (despite set's energy) and actually appreciate the success. john had no idea if he would be any good at this. he's never needed to be because he's God and doesn't have to negotiate with people, so what a pleasant surprise. ]
And no, why tear them down now? They make people nervous.
[ the way he says it suggests this is a good thing. ]
They're everyone's bone walls now, and you're right.
[ they are metal as fuck thanks for noticing. ]
no subject
It is a too-familiar, too-bold physicality. A sense of dominance and power play, naturally. Ultimately, if the man remains opposed to him, he'll just have to go! Right now, they're allies of interest! ]
Are you going to make the garrison out of bone as well, maybe? I think you ought to. Make it fucked up and WEIRD so everyone is on edge all the time!
no subject
a very human part of him doesn't care about intentions and simply craves being close to someone else. he's been alone ever since the dust had started to settle and he realised there was no one left. it's never gotten better because time only makes it worse, as john has always held himself apart from all the others. mostly. flings never really counted.
but the people he had known the longest and had loved the most had taken advantage of that and used his weakness to betray him. he grows tense, like an animal that allows itself to be held but never stops being ready to escape as soon as there's an opening. his Discord — which has peaked following their ritual, a murder, and an extended period of time sitting next to claude — makes the feel of him abnormally cold in addition to the rest. ]
Isn't that the opposite of what we're trying to do? Is this you making good on your promise to sow chaos by doing it by proxy?
[ he's great at pretending something never happened. ignore. deflect. do not acknowledge. he's fine! everything is still a joke here!! ]
BACKDATED TO LATE WARQU, PRE-BEACH.
It is very obviously a burning, bright thing from Set, whose mind scatters into the corners of those he has forged some sort of companionship with — for duty, for responsibility, for fun, for solemn vow. What arrives is the briefest sense of rising disorientation, woven through with a burst of wrath and grief so white-hot that it might char flesh from bone within seconds, shot through with rapture and the whiplash of love. It rises like a dying, murderous sun ( like Meridian ) — stifling and acute and suffocating — only to be tempered within seconds, by the cool, crisp wash of the dark sea ( like Zenith ), tempered and soothed with all edges laid flat once more.
The Communion plunges into quiet and calm, like a great, purring beast, and ends as abruptly as it began. ]
no subject
he reaches out, curious but not without concern as well. whatever had caused such a flurry of emotion must be significant. how he had gotten the strong Meridian presence before the Zenith had soothed is also of interest, but for now, all questions lead to the same place. ]
Set? What's happened?
[ because something clearly has. ]
no subject
We found the temple.
[ The one Cassian spoke of, in Communion. The one he has admitted to being directed to by Zenith's leader. ]
I think you would have had a similar reaction, if you were here. I do not know why I think that.
[ it just feels like the right thing to "know" ]
no subject
[ his interest is immediate, and the tone of the Communion shifts on his end. the anxious static of concern fades, pushed aside by a hungry curiosity. he wants to know what it is and the mysteries it contains so he can figure out where to place it in his growing mental map of this world. ]
Did it remind you of home?
[ he isn't sure why he calls it home. his world hasn't felt like home in a long time. he was a wanderer, simultaneously the hunter and the hunted. never resting. a dwindling hope of ever returning to his own system because his lyctors died faster than his enemies.
at least he'd had his war.
for set's benefit then, even though he has no idea if he might feel the same way as a human might. john can only assume, remembering the image of the woman he'd seen when they'd been together in Communion with the Tree. for a moment, she had been annabel and quetzalcoatl and someone he had never seen before all at once. it's a reasonable assumption to make, but he's been wrong plenty. ]
no subject
More than remind me of it, it appears of it. You have noticed the similarities between our origins and the world here, have you not? Particularly in Springstar.
no subject
Do you mean their whole Roman schtick? Yes.
[ springstar was always too bright for his tastes, but he otherwise appreciated the aesthetic. it was impossible to miss the places seemingly drawn from a common source of inspiration. ]
So, the temple is the real deal? [ a pause. ] Well, I could speculate about that all day, but I'll start by asking what exactly that means to you.
mid-Iqnu (cw: torture, eye things)
With no warning, no build, the equivalent of a sudden desperate, panicked pounding at the door, an attempt at Communion comes slamming into the psyche of someone nearby who shares an Aspect, accidentally connecting as her senses scatter and seek escape. There are no words, no plea for help in anything but a jumbled, inarticulate, weak longing for it, but stronger is the vicious shame, the fear, the rage, rage brighter than a blazing sun ready to flare.
There's a scalpel glinting in the light, a pain deep in the skull spreading, spreading, something that should never be touched flayed raw and pulled out, on fire at every ending. An eye, sickly green, dangles between gloved fingers, staring lifeless but fresh. There are sharp teeth smiling sadistically, the shadowy silhouette blurred by something hot and wet and a backing of bright lighting. Legs thrash, muscles bulge, but nothing gives, only skin and tendons. Ropes, straps, no matter how much she struggles she can't move, she can't fight, no, no, no, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it and it doesn't matter, it hurts, it hurts෴
And then there's nothing.]
no subject
his curiosity is piqued despite being unsure of what exactly he's witnessing, but the eventual sight of a scalpel and a strange eye makes him lean towards homebrew ocular surgery.
neat!
he has no intention of acting on any of this, of course. it's none of his business
except the part that was interesting.once it fades to nothing, john's attention returns to his work, and whatever remains of his uncomfortable presence within Communion goes with it. ]a memory—
Their friend was long gone, disappearing as Shard-Bearers sometimes do, but the jacket that they’d unintentionally left behind had provided the Shard-Bearer comfort. Tonight, they weep as they realize it no longer smelled of them.
[ ooc note — Just to avoid OOC confusion/misinterpretation, the details included in this memory are random and are not necessarily interconnected or plot meaningful beyond a surface level. However, your character is free to interpret this random memory however they’d like! This event will also be touched on somewhat during today’s NPC Communion Post. ]