Paul Atreides (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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deercountry2023-10-08 04:44 pm
terriblepurpose) wrote in deercountry2023-10-08 04:44 pm
Entry tags:
Player Epilogue: October
OCTOBER 2023
PROMPT 0: THE DOOR
PROMPT 1: THE SCIENTIST
PROMPT 2: THE PRIESTESS
PROMPT 3: GOODBYES
CODING
As the curse continues to wear upon Sleepers, the Temple seems to loom ever closer in their minds. Palebloods may dream of complex arcane machinery, and wake to find themselves sitting among it. Darkbloods may find themselves stepping through their own front door to emerge, unwillingly, in the gardens. Coldbloods and Vilebloods may snap out of a trance that draws them up into the sky or down under the ground to reach the Temple. Warmbloods seem most resistant to the call.
Inside, traps are still active. And there's something new: lines of light well up in the walls, shifting delicately down the hallways. No matter where you are in the temple, the light leads to a great central door.
Inside, traps are still active. And there's something new: lines of light well up in the walls, shifting delicately down the hallways. No matter where you are in the temple, the light leads to a great central door.
CONTENT WARNINGS:
blood, gore, monster fight
The door seems to be hewn of ancient, fossilized wood. Arcane patterns are carved upon it, thrumming with that blue-green light. There is no lock, no handle, only two smooth panels the right size to receive a handprint. One is made of ancient wood, the other arcane steel.
If two Sleepers place their hands upon the panels, they will feel a resonant thrum from the door as the light builds-- and then it's interrupted by a horrible shriek of bone-on-metal as a woman manifests in the room.
Have you no shame? You ruin everything.
The Scientist was human once. Now it's difficult to tell how much of her is human, how much is arcane augmentation, and how much is Beast. She can collapse into a blood-and-bone mist to evade blows, then reconstitute herself and lash out with bloodstone weapons: Darkblood gravity manipulation, Coldblood elemental blasts, Paleblood illusions. She's quick to attack.
If you press her for information, she will snarl that The world was simpler before Sleepers. You think yourselves gods or heroes. What have you done to earn it?
At best, she can be coaxed to a disdainful truce. Strike her down and she will disperse into bone and blood to escape her death.
Either way, if you place your hands to those panels and let the sound and light reach its crescendo, the vault door grinds open. Before you is the inner sanctum.
TL;DR:
- An arcane door requires two Sleeper handprints to open.
- Opening the door will trigger an attack by the Scientist, a half-Beast augmented human who loathes Sleepers.
The door seems to be hewn of ancient, fossilized wood. Arcane patterns are carved upon it, thrumming with that blue-green light. There is no lock, no handle, only two smooth panels the right size to receive a handprint. One is made of ancient wood, the other arcane steel.
If two Sleepers place their hands upon the panels, they will feel a resonant thrum from the door as the light builds-- and then it's interrupted by a horrible shriek of bone-on-metal as a woman manifests in the room.
Have you no shame? You ruin everything.
The Scientist was human once. Now it's difficult to tell how much of her is human, how much is arcane augmentation, and how much is Beast. She can collapse into a blood-and-bone mist to evade blows, then reconstitute herself and lash out with bloodstone weapons: Darkblood gravity manipulation, Coldblood elemental blasts, Paleblood illusions. She's quick to attack.
If you press her for information, she will snarl that The world was simpler before Sleepers. You think yourselves gods or heroes. What have you done to earn it?
At best, she can be coaxed to a disdainful truce. Strike her down and she will disperse into bone and blood to escape her death.
Either way, if you place your hands to those panels and let the sound and light reach its crescendo, the vault door grinds open. Before you is the inner sanctum.
TL;DR:
- An arcane door requires two Sleeper handprints to open.
- Opening the door will trigger an attack by the Scientist, a half-Beast augmented human who loathes Sleepers.
CONTENT WARNINGS:
religious themes, enforced intimacy
The inner sanctum is a quiet, humming cocoon of great white roots. Delicate cracks of light run through them like veins. The whole temple has been alive, all this time: like the Tower, it is the body of a Pthumerian.
The Priestess doesn't wish to fight you. She moves with slow, inhuman grace, and shifting doppelOmens flit around her feet like attendant spirits. Behind her, the roots curve down like a spiral staircase, lost to a brilliant light deep below.
If our Lord has allowed you here, she says, then you are welcome. Cleanse yourself and be at peace. So long as you don't walk alone.
If struck down, the Priestess disperses into aurora-light to evade her death; if left alone, she is simply encouraging. When two Sleepers enter the root staircase, it will react to the bond between them. If they share any tension, any sentiments hanging unsaid, the roots will grow wild - tangling them together or trapping them in a snarl of white wood. If they're in harmony, glowing flowers bloom where they walk.
The further they descend, the brighter the glow becomes. The walls are blanketed with tiny, glowing flowers and delicate sprouts. These are power-nerfing flowers, and they smell beautiful.
At the bottom is a doorway with pure light beyond. The Scientist and the Priestess manifest before it, side by side, washed out by the brilliance of this living corridor. They won't look at each other. The Priestess clasps her hands in prayer, and the Scientist sets her jaw.
Your people trespassed here, in lifetimes past, says the Scientist. When the world was wet and red and new.
It is a threshold, says the priestess, more gently. If you carry something of no more use to you, cast it away.
And swear yourself to what remains.
TL;DR:
- The inner sanctum is tended by a half-Beast Priestess who doesn't wish to fight.
- Sleepers can only progress down the glowing staircase if they resolve any lingering issues between them.
The inner sanctum is a quiet, humming cocoon of great white roots. Delicate cracks of light run through them like veins. The whole temple has been alive, all this time: like the Tower, it is the body of a Pthumerian.
The Priestess doesn't wish to fight you. She moves with slow, inhuman grace, and shifting doppelOmens flit around her feet like attendant spirits. Behind her, the roots curve down like a spiral staircase, lost to a brilliant light deep below.
If our Lord has allowed you here, she says, then you are welcome. Cleanse yourself and be at peace. So long as you don't walk alone.
If struck down, the Priestess disperses into aurora-light to evade her death; if left alone, she is simply encouraging. When two Sleepers enter the root staircase, it will react to the bond between them. If they share any tension, any sentiments hanging unsaid, the roots will grow wild - tangling them together or trapping them in a snarl of white wood. If they're in harmony, glowing flowers bloom where they walk.
The further they descend, the brighter the glow becomes. The walls are blanketed with tiny, glowing flowers and delicate sprouts. These are power-nerfing flowers, and they smell beautiful.
At the bottom is a doorway with pure light beyond. The Scientist and the Priestess manifest before it, side by side, washed out by the brilliance of this living corridor. They won't look at each other. The Priestess clasps her hands in prayer, and the Scientist sets her jaw.
Your people trespassed here, in lifetimes past, says the Scientist. When the world was wet and red and new.
It is a threshold, says the priestess, more gently. If you carry something of no more use to you, cast it away.
And swear yourself to what remains.
TL;DR:
- The inner sanctum is tended by a half-Beast Priestess who doesn't wish to fight.
- Sleepers can only progress down the glowing staircase if they resolve any lingering issues between them.
On a great platform high above the world, between the clouds and stars, is a ritual space carved of crystal. Before you are ten statues, arranged in a circle. They were created long ago, when the world was young, but many of the motifs feel familiar.
To make an offering will immediately lift the curse upon any Sleeper present. Back in town, corruption will dissipate back to usual levels. At the center of the circle, a glowing door shimmers open. Through it is Trench and all the lands beyond.
The world lies open for you, ready to explore.
TL;DR:
- Choose one or more patrons, NPCs, or thematic statues to address.
- Say goodbye to something and move forward into the world.
- The first is a serpent with moon-white flowers blooming down the curve of her back, gently holding an egg. An engraving reads: compassion and protection.
- The second is a person with a rose in their hand and a dog at their side: loyalty and community.
- The third is a creature with the head of a wolf and the horns of a goat, depicted halfway through a transformation: change and identity.
- The fourth is a raven with a single wise eye, perched upon a book: knowledge and understanding.
- The fifth is a delicate tower with a tangled crown of antlers: structure and creation.
- The sixth is a confused tangle of tentacles built of mechanical components, its grip turned inward and uncertain: self and identity.
- The seventh is a woman with a nun's habit and a sword, steady and fierce: protection and vengeance.
- The eighth is a swirl of flames around a tree of antlers: destruction and survival.
- The ninth is a swirl of stormclouds, lashing tendrils, and pounding waves: cataclysm and apotheosis.
- The tenth is a child with feathers on her shoulders: innocence and hope.
To make an offering will immediately lift the curse upon any Sleeper present. Back in town, corruption will dissipate back to usual levels. At the center of the circle, a glowing door shimmers open. Through it is Trench and all the lands beyond.
The world lies open for you, ready to explore.
TL;DR:
- Choose one or more patrons, NPCs, or thematic statues to address.
- Say goodbye to something and move forward into the world.
(frozen comment) QUESTIONS
Deku
Prompt 2: The Priestess
It's not the first time he's succeeded at reasoning with someone trying to kill him, but it's no less harrowing. It's an ominous reminder that he was nearly lost forever to Beasthood in this temple, had his Hero gear refabricated in a hurry, and is operating under suboptimal conditions. But he is determined to help solve the problem of the Sleeper-wide Corruption, else he swap his clouded eyes and claws for Beastly tree branches yet again.
Midoriya enters the inner sanctum with apprehension. He goes rigid, staring at the roots descending in a spiral into the ground. His body remembers something his memory lost or could not perceive. It paralyzes him, catches the breath in his chest, and stutters his heart. Each fragile beat is gradually drowned out by the dark, lumbering approach of something threatening to snuff it out. His skin feels unaccountably sensitive until he realizes it's just chicken skin.
He looks at the Priestess, but there is no indication she's doing anything other than observing.
"Wait..." For what, he isn't sure. Why am I afraid?
Wildcard
Plotting comment
the priestess
Paul tells himself, again and again, that he knew this about Midoriya from the beginning. He no more could ask him to change his nature than he could ask him to transform into someone else, and given the transformation that did overtake him the idea seems crueller and more far-fetched than it ever has before.
Paul still wishes, as he obediently stops at Midoriya's first hesitation, that Midoriya were anywhere else.
He flits closer at the single word, steps so light they barely seem to touch the ground. (Tiny roots reach for his feet; another botantical mystery to ignore.) He doesn't reach for a hand or a shoulder. They might need to move at any moment. But he's there, a familiar, faithful silhouette, and that has to count for something.
What is it? He signs, not trusting words this deep in hostile territory.
no subject
Midoriya feels Paul draw close even through his disorienting fear. That's how it works; his fears are rooted with his desire to protect others, and he must know who he must defend and what he is defending against. Paul is there in his periphery, a svelte black shape; the Priestess watches; the hole in the earth yawns.
"I..." He forces himself to be silent as he crooks his hand. His fingers stutter, and he has to repeat signs to get them right. I'm scared. I don't know why.
Danger Sense does not detect actions not meant to harm, even those that imprison. The little roots crawl towards his Iron Soles, and he yelps in almost senseless surprise,
"I'm moving!" He is not putting out roots and moving in the way he thinks. He is not transforming. They are not his. It's the explanation his mind tries to supply when Danger Sense does not trigger.
He reaches for Paul, intending to safeguard him from them, or shove him away, anything that will keep him safe.
no subject
He stays where he is until the last possible second, then flits out of Midoriya's reach, so fluid it seems as effortless as a fish flicking its tail to angle into a current.
"Stop," he says, firm calm braced by resonances of a call to attention. He doesn't speak with his hands, because they're reaching for Midoriya's shoulders to catch hold of him. Not to restrain - impossible, even if that was something he'd intend to do here otherwise - but to ground.
Panic is a spark in dry grass. Paul won't let it catch, even if there's something to fear with the urgency Midoriya is showing.
no subject
He looks at Paul, desperation in his eyes demanding to know why he stopped him. Paul's thin fingers on his shoulders still him as surely as if they were iron. He looks at the ground. Nothing is attacking them. Nevertheless, he rests one hand on Paul's side.
"What are those roots?" he whispers shakily.
no subject
The gods of this place know that there have been plenty of harmful roots beyond the ones that erupted from Midoriya thanks to the curse of this temple. Even without that, it wouldn't be unwise to be cautious.
But what's at Paul's feet seems fragile, unedged. When he looks down at them and gives them an experimental nudge with the reinforced toe of his boot, they bend pliantly away, and those attempting to curl onto it spring loose from their precarious purchases.
I'm going to look at them closer, he signs, but waits for Midoriya's agreement before he does.
no subject
"If our Lord has allowed you here, then you are welcome. Cleanse yourself and be at peace. So long as you don't walk alone," intones the Priestess, making Midoriya's shoulders jump. This only encourages him to stick to Paul like a burr.
"What do you mean?" Midoriya casts his eyes around for any sort of cleansing pool, but the Pthumerian temples (and the temples that are Pthumerians) have always done things differently than he imagines.
no subject
"Your people trespassed here, in lifetimes past," says the Scientist, unmistakably herself. "When the world was wet and red and new.
"It is a threshold," says the Priestess, gently. "If you carry something of no more use to you, cast it away. And swear yourself to what remains."
"Another test?" Paul calls down the stairs, lifting his head to give the newly manifested Scientist a hard look. She remains impassive, deliberately and blisteringly so.
"An invitation," the Priestess says, "Make of it what you will."
Paul is accustomed to showing respect to even his enemies. He doesn't quite count the pair waiting below as such, but they're closer to it than allies. Thus, he ducks his head before he rolls his eyes slightly, foregoing crouching to examine the roots for placing his hand on the small of Midoriya's back.
I think they're saying we should relax, Paul signs, the flicking of his fingers tinged with sarcasm.
no subject
“I… I’m not sure what useless things I’m carrying…”
He wants to ask his questions face to face, so he steps up to the edge of the stairs. With a look in his eyes like troubled waters, he signs to Paul,
Please don't overuse your new powers. I want you to make it out of here okay.
no subject
I will, he signs back, because he intends to. Nothing at the bottom of these stairs can be worth throwing himself into the fire. So will you.
"It's less tangible than that. The rest have been," he says aloud, tipping his chin up slightly as he casts his gaze to the root-laced ceiling. "Something collaborative. Swearing to what remains...so what remains? Us, or them?"
The figures remain impassive. Paul doesn't interpret that as positive or negative. Persistence is just a fixed point, for now.
"Either way. What are we carrying that we don't have a use for?" He's done a test like this before. The answer was fear, but he hasn't brought that with him. "Preconceptions?"
no subject
"I thought it was us, we being the ones needing to be tested."
But he doesn't sound so sure. Immediately he thinks of all the preconceptions he has ever held, which is overthinking it, but he's very suggestible. He spends several moments sweeping these distractions to the side. All Might once called him the king of nonsense as he tried to bring Midoriya back to the goal at hand. He does better thinking of the additive rather than the subtractive.
A familiar word spurs more. Only I will remain. Memory cuts through his thoughts. A frightened, hurried whisper of words well-learned. Eyes glowing fission blue. Paul begging him not to go to his death at the hands of the Reckoning.
Midoriya is surprised at how quickly his own fear dissipates in the face of his compulsion to protect another, especially one so dear. He knows he's scared, but it doesn't matter in the face of that. His need to save obliterates everything. He can feel his body's processes breathing and pumping something different. He feels more like himself.
He takes Paul's hand. It feels bold to do it in a strange place with strange eyes on them. He does it anyway, because it makes him feel more like himself--his true self, not the outside one shown to others or the one transmuted by circumstances.
Together? he signs. He figures it's not about being ready or able. He'll find out. When called, he simply must answer.