[ 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?!
[ — 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. ]
[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෴
[ 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)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
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)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
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)
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. ]