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deercountry2022-05-16 04:23 pm
unsheathedfromreality) wrote in deercountry2022-05-16 04:23 pm
Real & Half-Real: Chapter 2 - Nephele-That-Isn't
Who: A brave party of rescuers and their intrepid support staff
What: Pocket dimension shenanigans to save a missing Sleeper
When: Two insane days in May
Where: Nephele-that-isn’t, which isn’t Deer Country either
All at once–one day, in early May–the portal’s finished, and the planning is as near to done as it will ever be. All at once, it’s time to venture into Nephele-that-isn’t, and retrieve not one but two Sleepers who’ve gone astray.
The team assembles in the clearing by Argonaut’s abandoned shrine, in a darkness lit by glowing CRTs and the green, green moon. The portal itself, and the world beyond it, casts a light all its own–and one by one they step over that rune-etched silver threshold, and one by one vanish into another story than Trench’s own.
Like being sieved through strands of glass and fire. Like being picked apart thread by narrative thread as the Words themselves that write the universe flash before stunned eyes in the seconds before they’re erased and something worse substituted. Moments of fleeting alignment between passager and host-creator come in stopped heartbeats and empty lungs, in the memory you’ve been dead for years and the cold slide of steel between ribs.
Then that second-that's-years is over and deposits its captives beneath an alien sky, with sun and ring and stars and moons foreign as any far-flung land. Some travelers wear skins and magic to suit those stranger heavens; some have been changed by the logic of the half-world half-story to better fit its weave.
With a changed nature come changed senses and abilities–and those in the skins of shrikes, with eyes to see, may notice much more if they look.
All can see one grim fact, however, on entering the world: Any clock, any watch, any Omni now displays 48:00:00 or its analogue equivalent... And begins at once to tick down.
[[ Part of the Real & Half-Real player plot! Navigate to other plot posts: [OOC] Interest Check | [IC] Prologue | [IC] Iskierka's Notes | [IC] The Portal & the Plan ]]
What: Pocket dimension shenanigans to save a missing Sleeper
When: Two insane days in May
Where: Nephele-that-isn’t, which isn’t Deer Country either
All at once–one day, in early May–the portal’s finished, and the planning is as near to done as it will ever be. All at once, it’s time to venture into Nephele-that-isn’t, and retrieve not one but two Sleepers who’ve gone astray.
The team assembles in the clearing by Argonaut’s abandoned shrine, in a darkness lit by glowing CRTs and the green, green moon. The portal itself, and the world beyond it, casts a light all its own–and one by one they step over that rune-etched silver threshold, and one by one vanish into another story than Trench’s own.
Like being sieved through strands of glass and fire. Like being picked apart thread by narrative thread as the Words themselves that write the universe flash before stunned eyes in the seconds before they’re erased and something worse substituted. Moments of fleeting alignment between passager and host-creator come in stopped heartbeats and empty lungs, in the memory you’ve been dead for years and the cold slide of steel between ribs.
Then that second-that's-years is over and deposits its captives beneath an alien sky, with sun and ring and stars and moons foreign as any far-flung land. Some travelers wear skins and magic to suit those stranger heavens; some have been changed by the logic of the half-world half-story to better fit its weave.
With a changed nature come changed senses and abilities–and those in the skins of shrikes, with eyes to see, may notice much more if they look.
All can see one grim fact, however, on entering the world: Any clock, any watch, any Omni now displays 48:00:00 or its analogue equivalent... And begins at once to tick down.
[[ Part of the Real & Half-Real player plot! Navigate to other plot posts: [OOC] Interest Check | [IC] Prologue | [IC] Iskierka's Notes | [IC] The Portal & the Plan ]]
no subject
[The fledgling replied, looking between the two others with the tired expression of someone who knew exactly what to avoid out in the field-- especially as it regarded matters of a particularly fantastical nature. Oscar-- in the role of Sweetroll, the liar of a shrike, saw no reason for games or dishonesty in this matter.
There was no way they could win in a full assault. It didn't seem like they were built for it, either.]
I don't plan on dying, either. With people like that... they don't end up in their position without there being some secrets they're hiding. We've just gotta find them.
no subject
He turns his attention to Oscar, the consensus established (barring his willingness to die for the right reason, of course, but he hardly considers this it.
He crouches to more closely examine the grooves, trying to gauge by sight, and then gentle touch, where the grooves are deepest, where the inhabitants may have frequented the most often. His slender, tapered index finger settles, with finality, on a groove with the unbroken, thick certainty of a palm's life-line. It leads to the central hall, which they'll discover shortly, if all are in favor.]
I suggest that the road most traveled is where we should begin. Wherever they spent the most time will lend more readily to a picture of what they valued and how they spent their time. Together, and... perhaps apart.
no subject
Right. That makes sense. Par-tic-ularly interested in that apart bit... [Kokichi nods, hearing L's assessment.] Well. Shall we, gentlemen?
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[Oscar agreed with a heavy sigh-- one that was as overlaid with a dry, teenage wit that only barely covered up an understanding that wasn't ordinary for a teen at all.]
Let's get this cleared up. It can't be worse than some things I've seen.
no subject
Really? You hate them the most? I do too, but... just a little, I can't help loving what I hate the most. It's my inspiration, after all.
[He glances Oscar's way as he stands and straightens as much as his chronically hunched back allows him to, glance lingering for an appraising moment.]
Well then. Let's hope that's true.
[Though L often looks like the youngest person in a room of people he's working with, that's not the case now. He's unambiguously the oldest, so he takes the first step along the gouging grooves, setting foot on a darkened tile with a chip in the left corner.
An arrow whizzes past his face, burying itself in the opposite wall.]
...stop.
[They've sprung the first trap, but fortunately, as long as they stay put, nothing else seems to be happening.]
no subject
I can understand that, too~ without those to oppose, there is no point. It's a cruel, enjoyable cycle.
[He follows after L, looking around with wary but curious eyes. It's quiet inside. Which usually means trouble. The minute Kokichi hears 'stop' and sees the arrow whizzing past, he halts immediately.]
Whoa. They really are going for classic-style traps. Jeez.
[He looks down, trying to see if there's a pattern or something. Some of the tiles seemed faintly darker than others, so maybe...]
no subject
Guess we're on the right track, [He said, with unease.] They wouldn't be so theatrical if we weren't!
no subject
[He says so dryly, sounding slightly annoyed. He likes a good puzzle, but his life on the line? Not so much, especially since he's explicitly no fighter.
Careful not to shift the position of his feet, L slowly bends his knees and sinks to a crouch to get a closer look at the tiles. They all look old and worn; there are darker ones, as Kokichi observed, scattered and spread around lighter ones that are more common, occasional grey ones. They're all lousy with chips and damage.]
Preliminary hypothesis is that the darkest tiles spring the arrows, but... we should still be careful, moving forward. That might not be all there is to it.
no subject
[Kokichi glances warily at the tiles. He mulls over his options, and then puts one foot down on one - one of the grey ones.
He barely misses an arrow flying past him, stumbling back quickly.]
...Well. Those aren't safe either. Wish I'd gotten a rock or something to toss on these and test it out.
no subject
[Oscar knelt as well, moving carefully on unfamiliar feet to not move them and adjust himself accordingly to survey the path before them. Ordinarily, in Trench, he would have had something in his Forever Bag. In this Vision of Nephele... he was still getting used to his senses, his capabilities, and his resources.]
If they're spaced evenly, we can track it and weave our way around them. If they're just random... well, that's another problem.
no subject
If wishes were rocks, it'd save us a headache, perhaps.
[He glances back and forth between both tiles, limited to his human senses, but as one who has generally made the most of those senses.]
I want to confirm something. Are one of you willing to step on the white tiles, and only the white tiles, to see if they also spring a trap? If the pattern holds... the arrow will fire in front of the tile and not over or behind it, so as long as you favor leaning back on a heel, you should avoid a direct hit.
no subject
[He vaguely gestures. He steps forward, onto a white tile...and it's very lucky he is leaning back on a heel, because there goes another arrow.]
Shiiiiiiit. Okay. I'm really testing my luck today.
no subject
[If there was one thing he knew about luck, it was that it could go sour in an instant. Standing again, Oscar searched around the room and perimeter of the area looking for something-- anything-- that stood out to his senses as a shrike.]
So we need to be careful of the gray and white ones.... that's gonna be fun, because most of what we're seeing on the floor right now is gray or white....
no subject
He doesn't think he needs to tell anyone else to stop after another one fires.]
It's confirmed,
[He says, grimly. One step closer to figuring out the puzzle through messy trial and error, but resulting in a momentary setback.]
Grey, white, and black,
[L reminds the shrike, eyes following Oscar as he surveys the perimeter of the room.]
You'd mentioned the possibility of a random distribution, but nothing is truly random. Even algorithms designed to assign things randomly rely on a system... and the owner of the house would have done so, if only to keep him and his chosen guests safe so long as they knew the secret.
[He pinches the bridge of his nose.]
We have a white tile, a grey tile, and a black tile. They share one hidden property in common; there may be one that's not so obvious as the color, but visible to those paying attention.
[Each one has a chipped corner. Different corners; the white is upper left, the black is lower right. The grey is lower left.]
...these tiles have seen better days. What if some of the damage isn't wholly a result of wear and tear?
no subject
Can't believe L decides 'he's an idiot. I actually like him a lot.' Bless.Kokichi sweats out his little incident, but then he listens to L and catches onto what he's saying.
That makes sense in his mind.]
...So you think it might be intentional.
The chippings might be what triggers the traps. Yeah? It's discreet, so I could believe it pretty easily...also makes it harder to decipher if there is some normal damage, but if we just assume most of it is part of the trap...we may be on our way.
[He's not going first this time, though. He's tested his luck enough with these bad boys.]
no subject
[He was listening as well-- and following leads. Going on what Lazarus had said, Oscar scoped out the tiles himself. In theory, the ones with the least amount of damage would be safe to walk on without worry...]
If they're trying to force us to think outside the box, they're doing a good job at it.
[On light, bird like feet he gingerly stepped forward, moving with an economy that was different from either a bird or the farmlad he had been portraying himself as. This was the motion of someone trained to run and fight with speed and grace.
So far, no arrows had been triggered. Success??]
no subject
L is as odd about the way he decides to like or dislike someone as he is odd in every other way.]I think it could well be the chipping.
[He glances up, listening to Oscar's reasoning and nodding his encouragement when the shrike proceeds. He watches, remembering the safe tiles as they're stepped on, and then a pattern does start to emerge.]
Good... that's good; thank you for clearing those! I see it, now.
[He stands, picking his way toward Oscar, choosing some of the same tiles; others are different and also do not result in an arrow firing.]
It's by row, and by color, and the chipped corners rotate counter-clockwise. It's staggered; if the last white one that fired an arrow was in the lower left-hand corner, in that row, then the next one will be in the upper-left. So... two to the left, kokichi, then four forward, step over the grey and proceed three right, two forward, then you can clear the rest with a jump, I'm sure.
[He tilts his chin to Oscar, brows raised, as if to ask if he'd like an easier path from where he stands, as well.]
no subject
Alley-oop~!
[He does, in fact, clear the rest with a jump, and raises his arms up. Perfect 10.]
Complete! Join me, comrades!
no subject
[Not literally. Not in a manner that made sense to normal people. He could see the tiles, but if he focused he could see parts of the mechanisms as well-- and his own mechanical pattern recognition, honed from years of reading everything, filled in the blanks. Skipping ahead on the tiles on his toes, Oscar took his time and kept track of his path before reaching the other side.]
That... that was something!
[It almost felt as if his head was spinning while his thoughts caught up with the sensory input. This was... going to be special.]
no subject
Nicely done... we're through, and we can get back. Hopefully the rest of them will be that straightforward.
[The rest of them will not be that straightforward. Twenty paces forward, L's steps slow, because there appears to be a dense fog ahead of them, with tiny pinpricks of light flickering on and off throughout like fireflies.
It doesn't spread or come any closer to them, but every step will bring it nearer, and eventually (hopefully) through.]