Real & Half-Real: Chapter 1 - The Portal and the Plan

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Who: The Committee to Rescue Illarion from His Very Stupid Mistake
What: Building a portal to bust into a pocket dimension and strategizing what to do once they get there. All extremely advisable science.
When: Early-mid April
Where: Throughout Trench, and in parts beyond it

It's been weeks since Illarion's disappearance in the fight against Leviathan, and scarcely fewer weeks since his Omen Iskierka began papering Trench with notes on his whereabouts. The shrike's friends and loved ones have not been idle during that time, and now their plans begin coming to fruition.

It's time to get him out of the nightmare he's trapped in--but first, they've got to break their way in, and they've got to have a plan.

[[ Part of the Real & Half-Real player plot! Navigate to other plot posts: [OOC] Interest Check | [IC] Prologue | [IC] Iskierka's Notes ]]

Comments

QUESTIONS

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ACTIVITY SUMMARY & HANDWAVE ZONE

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You can use the following form for summarizing your characters' activity on this phase of the plot!

<b>Character:</b> <b>Starting status:</b> <b>Activity Summary - Strategy</b> <b>Activity Summary - Building the Portal</b> <b>Final status:</b>

1 - MEET & GREET

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Paul Atreides has thrown open his workshop to all who've dedicated themselves to Illarion's safe return. And, ever the gracious host, he's set a time and date for them all to get to know each other before they set to work in earnest. On that date, the esoterica of the workshop have been covered in black cloth and more comfortable seating procured to match the expected number of participants. Simple snacks and hot drinks are on hand to ease conversation, though the tension of both their task and the month hangs heavy in the air.

Re: 1 - MEET & GREET

[imaglyphwitch]

Luz arrived, several of the notes in hand. She knew this was likely going to be one of those times where it would just be best that she not get involved. It seemed like there was going to be a LOT going on, and she definitely had been pulled around this month that she knew it would be important to stay put and try to help out in Trench where she could.

However, she said she's deliver the notes, so she was keen to do just that. It had taken a few hours, but she was sure that she'd obtained the things needed that would help them. All that was left was to see who would be on the mission, in case she needed to assist when they came back.

They would be coming back, right?

[wannasmash]

Here's a familiar face offering her grim one a smile. Midoriya is around, mostly listening or handing people things as needed. He's not directly involved in the planning stage.

"Thank you for helping, Luz-san. Best not to jump into anything unprepared."

[imaglyphwitch]

Luz was here to deliver the letters because she said she would. Was there a part of her that wanted to get involved? Certainly. Was she reminded about what might happen and decided it might be a bad idea to be in a place where she might die? That too. But it didn't mean she wouldn't see off her friends.

She really hoped they were Ok after this.

"Right, of course. Do you think you're ready?"

[open~]

[violetlies]

[The fact that Kokichi had somehow ended himself up in a situation that was far, far out of his depth had not escaped him. Not in the least. Pragmatically, he'd say taking him along for this - whatever it was - was probably a mistake. He had no real fighting capabilities (beyond 'making the best of what he had' which wasn't much, admittedly), but he did have a mind for tactics.

And, the defining thing tying him to this situation - a loyalty to Sayo. That was the big one. She was normally averse to opening up to most people (understandably so), but they were kind of on this weird wavelength Kokichi couldn't quite put a word to...which ended him up here. Honestly, most of the information made his head spin.

But, hey, no time like the present to try to keep up. Maybe meet some new friends. Hopefully not die. You know. The usual. The darkness outside was a bit imposing as he entered, and the atmosphere was hardly cheerful, but, hey...]

...Well. No one's died yet.

[He mumbled faintly to himself, and then grabbed one of the drinks - not a soda, to his dismay, but it'd do - and sat down. He glanced to one side.]

Soooo. Lively party, huh?

[The dry delivery was intentional.]

[hearthebell]

[L's here foremost for Iskierka, aware that Moonsight is in dire need of assistance and this workshop, project and committee are probably his best shot at helping out. His head for math is good, and though science was never his specialty, he did manage to formulate an effective antivenom before the battle on the beach. If it's the needful, his mind flies and is limited by just two things: his body's threshold for neglect and punishment, and his own tendency to doubt in the face of failure.

In his mind, failure has made him a pariah. Though his orca whale omen has forgiven him and returned to flank and protect him, he feels a wary distance regarding most others, even those he was on good terms with previously. He doesn't remember how to talk to them; he sees liability and threat before he sees friendship and kindness, lots of lurking shadows and hidden daggers.

He's here to work, thermos of coffee in hand, because solving puzzles to save people is the only reason he ever had to exist.

He's not eager to strike up conversations with others, but if you draw close to him, he'll glance your way, wide dark eyes under a shaggy mop of hair.]

I'm Lazarus Sauveterre. Here for the same reason you are, I'm sure. We'll get him out.

2 - STRATEGY

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Though Iskierka spread her notes far and wide throughout Trench, by early April--and thanks to Kaworu and Luz's indefatigable efforts--they've all been found. Now pinned to stand-up corkboards, annotated and clustered, they occupy pride of place at one end of Paul's workshop. Chairs stand ready for any who want to sit and discuss--or argue--and writing supplies are to-hand for those who prefer them to the Omnis for recording their ideas. Much has already been extracted on Nephele-that-isn't, its people and environs, but there's still insight to glean from careful analysis and discussion.

And that insight must then be put into application. Sayo has set forth the bones of the ritual--twenty-four hours, thirteen murders, capped with an enormous explosion--but its practical execution, in a half-world both huge and dangerous, requires resources and planning. Now is the time to discuss logistics and plans of attack, and exactly how to cross the vast space implied by Illarion's notes in the short time his rescuers will have to them.

Briefing and Ask the Golden Witch

[forwantofahorse]

"...and those are our thirteen targets." Sayo finishes her briefing, having spent the last several minutes pointing to (surprisingly accurate) sketches of the thirteen "dramatis personae" of Nephele-that-isn't, i.e., the thirteen main characters of the "story" that they have to assassinate, and explaining what she knows of their role and abilities based on her own time there. Sayo has described the barest bones of the ritual; the need for the sacrifices, the time limit, and the difficulty in taking down each member of the false world's cast. However, she has been reticent on how, exactly, the ritual works and why she knows of it—which may be concerning for something both so crucial to the plan and so fundamentally disturbing and callous.

"In our first attempt to enact this ritual, Illarion and I successfully assassinated the Prince of Pleasure and the Swan Sorceress, but fell short when we attempted to secure the Prince of Noon's airship for our own use due to a simple lack of firepower. I have more detailed information on the domains and abilities of each of those targets, but... it may be outdated at this point." She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "The most precarious part of this plot is that Nephele-that-isn't's topography, structure, and even history seem to be... in flux. While Illarion and I traveled its expanse, it always seemed to be changing, expanding even, as the world built itself up. If we're particularly unlucky, some of the characters that Illarion and I pinpointed as good targets will be unsuitable or dead—twice over, in some cases—when we arrive. That initial 24-hour reconnaissance period will be crucial, as well as any information we can glean before then."

A short pause. Then... some of the stern, professorial facade cracks, revealing someone fundamentally very, very tired and very, very scared beneath. "And... thank you, everyone. I was worried it'd just be me, Kaworu, and Paul for some time, but it's, um. It's reassuring, seeing how many of you have shown up to help."

Deep breath. The mask comes back on. "Now. Any questions?"

Ask her anything.

[justoscar]

Oscar had been quiet.

This wasn't his fight. He barely knew most of the people involved, but he was also someone who upheld his word. Although their meetings had been both brief and under duress, he remembered a promise he made to someone with Sayo's fave:

Keep an eye on her.

Oscar may have seemed like an innocent, but he knew the full effects of being in the aftermath of someone else's self destrution on a personal level. Lives had been destroyed in Remnant because of it; his body still carried the scars.

Quietly, he raised his hand.

"If you can get me on the airship, I think I've got the controls," he said firmly. Although he only had experience in crashing airships, a part of him knew what to do. Oscar was confident he could figure it out.

"Also... Sayo." He hadn't spoken her name often, but he made a point to say it now. "Is the reason you know all this related to what happened to you and... Our Mysterious friend--"

They really needed a better name for this bird.

"-- after the beast that attacked the town was defeated?"

[eudaimonikos]

Michael clicks his tongue thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair as he reads over the notes available. "Swan Lady sounds fun," he comments dryly. What a basic playbook. He went through that phase too, sure, but it turns out that manipulating everybody is a shitty way to live your life.

He could manage that, he thinks. He knows those tricks. But there's plenty of people who can handle a little trickery, and fewer with his more unique talents. Best to focus on what he, and he specifically, can do. Illarion's world isn't too much like his own. Their demons sound extremely different. But he's seen Illarion - actually seen him properly - so he thinks he's got a good understanding of how their higher-dimensional beings operate. It really doesn't seem that different from back home.

"I'll go after these shrike people," he concludes. "I'm not going to go insane or whatever when I see them." Despite being, to all outward appearances, a normal human? He does not provide any further explanation!

[hearthebell]

L's been particularly quiet throughout the explanation. He received a note and is committed to breaking in, but once inside, there's precious little he could do. He could even be a liability, given the dangers that have been related in this strange other world.

"If our mutual acquaintance has been trapped in this Nephele, but his omen has been here in Trench to communicate and assist us... it stands to reason that it could work the other way around, doesn't it? Those of us who are better off remaining behind could at least do that much, and send omens in with the away team."

Target Plans (a murder most fowl)

[peripheries]

So who's going to kill who and how?

[Look at who's unusually business today despite the topic. Well, come on, let's ~discuss~.]

[wannasmash]

Midoriya has been quiet for most of the proceedings, partly out of respect as someone not in the planning stage, and partly because there is a lot of information he needs to take in. He looks at Kaworu and Paul, two friends he desperately wishes a kinder life on. Illarion he knows little about, other than a small but warm show of sympathy, Sayo even less. He says quietly,

"I'm aware this is kind of like a mindscape, and I've looked at the notes. But do we have to kill them?"

[justoscar]

"This seems like a situation where breaking into teams would be the quickest way to do it,"

Oscar chimed in, wary but attentive. He had been quiet up until this point-- and, given the fragments of information he understood about many parties involved, he knew this wasn't his fight.

But, he had a promise to keep... And for a creampuff he wasn't half bad at strategy.

"It's just pooling our resources and seeing who goes where. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly a front lines guy-- and it looks like a few of us are in that category. We're going to have to get creative."

[hearthebell]

My omen is an apex predator adapted to cold climates; that remains true in dreams, so I can only assume that however the trip affects her, those are dependable properties we can rely on. I imagine Kel would give her less trouble than most if she's assisting, so she could at least cover for whoever wants to take on the glacier-lich, or handle some of the chimeras on the front line.

3 - BUILDING THE PORTAL

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While other Sleepers use Iskierka's notes to determine conditions in the pocket dimension and formulate a plan of attack, Ford Pines--acknowledged veteran of a portal, or two, or three--leads the construction of their way in. The first few days of work are used for scouting for the location of the pocket dimension and gathering materials both esoteric and mundane. As more information trickles in on the pocket dimension's location, and what will be needed to break into it, construction begins in earnest.

3.1 - GATHERING MATERIALS

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An esoteric project, woven of machinery and magic, requires esoteric supplies. Ford's shopping list is accordingly eclectic:

To build sensors to triangulate on thin spots to punch a portal through, the team will need radios and other electronics to take apart for antennas, transmitters, receivers, and integrated circuits.

To make the portal, they need a frame of sturdy metal (titanium cobalt, Ford suggests, if it can be had in Trench), a mix of cold, dark, and paleblood stones, yards of copper wire, and some sort of monitoring equipment. They will also need materials for a Paleblood dream-ritual to break into Nephele-that-isn't (strange near-dreamscape thing it is)--more bloodstones, spell runes, incense, sleeping potions, deer antlers, a blood-forged athame and a yard of blessed silk are more notable components of the spell.

Beg, borrow, trade, steal, or bleed yourself--any route to get what's needed, in a hurry.

3.2 - SCOUTING

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It's a frustrating fact that wherever Illarion put himself, he left neither forwarding address nor indication of his new location. Even Iskierka can't pinpoint a place where the pocket dimension might be easier to reach, try as she might; her sense of her Sleeper's location is too scrambled to help. So: It falls to the team to find a location for the portal where it'll have the best chance of breaching an entrance.

Magical scrying and technological devices alike will yield useful telemetry when deployed on the Farthest Shore, in Cassandra at the Pale Sanctuary, and by the Salt Lake and Illarion's abandoned home. Anomalous readings occur by the Unfathomable Mass and in Lumenwood, infecting equipment or Sleepers with transient eyes for a few minutes. Sleepers may find clues on the thinnest spot between the dimension and Trench (centered somewhere on a shrine to Argonaut deep in Trenchwood) or how to break down the walls of the Waking World there.

The Wonderkind may also hold secrets within their glowing interiors. A scant few around the city open on vistas matching Illarion's descriptions of his home: A haunting eldritch forest darkened by unnatural night--an undulating sea of grass populated with crazed sapient plants--a picturesque island awash in rainbow-colored poppies. Examining these windows, magically or otherwise, yields clues on how Sleepers entering Nephele-that-isn't might find themselves changed in surprising ways.

Once the team homes in on a location for Nephele-that-isn't, daring scouts might make use of one of Ford's teleport scrolls to enter the pocket dimension. The merely "lucky" among them will find themselves in a quick-dissolving shard of the dimension that lasts mere hours. Spectacularly (un)fortunate individuals land in the pocket dimension itself, trapped as Illarion is unless they have a return scroll in their possession.

[[ OOC note: Ford has created four teleport scrolls targeting the pocket dimension along with enough scrolls to get everyone back to Trench. A maximum of two people at a time can use a teleport scroll. ]]

3.2.1 - MONSTERS & PRODIGIES

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Sleepers investigating the Wonderkind for clues might be set upon by monsters! Any of the following can emerge from doorways opened onto Nephele:

Vampires might come singly or in small groups. Avian, sleek, and large-eyed as any elf, there's also something uncannily alluring about them. Unwary Sleepers might find themselves seduced, bitten, and devoured.

Nephele's dragons are dinosaurs by any other name, and anything--from tiny ceratopsians to massive Tyrannosaurus to horrifyingly huge azhdarchid pterosaurs--might pop out to challenge Sleepers (or flee from them into Trench).

There are also strange eldritch bird-monsters, hulking and covered in lightless feathers, that speak in the tongues of men but seem utterly mad. The largest are ten feet at the shoulder and massive with muscle, armed with fangs and talons and bearing hundreds of bright-hued eyes that can cause madness in Sleepers who meet them. Even being around one induces corruption in both Sleepers and their environs. Something's familiar about the contagious eyes and unwholesome oily black residue they leave behind when they touch things...

Anything that comes through might also be possessed by a demon, granting it unexpected magic. Demonhosts of Fire can breathe flames; demonhosts of Steel can snatch weapons with their magnetic grip; demonhosts of Song can break hearts and confuse minds with their singing. Killing a demonhost frees the demon and they will take Sleepers as hosts, only to drive them toward the Pthumerian Sea with the will to take a Throne that doesn't exist in the Waking World. Demons can be exorcised and trapped in objects. Possessed Sleepers who drown in the Pthumerian Sea will drown the demon with them.

3.2.2 - NEPHELE-THAT-ISN'T

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Scouts who make it into Nephele-that-isn't or one of its unstable shards are deposited on the tidal flats at the base of the Throne spire. Around that impossible mountain all the armies of the world rage against each other in pitched battle, soldiers and machines and magic fed into the endless hungry meat grinder of trench warfare. Most combatants ignore Sleepers who offer them no challenge, though there's always the risk of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and catching a bullet meant for someone else--or being crushed beneath the treads of a tank, caught in a drift of chlorine gas, attacked by a rabid skinshifter...

Escaping the battlefield around the Throne, one might travel east-northeast (crossing the ocean to do it) to the Isle of Joy, or northwest across a shifting land of swamps and quicksand and gnarled moss-draped forests. On the far northern border of the latter lie the Iron Steppes, and beyond them, night-haunted Shroudwood.

Time and distance are oddly compressed when traveling. Journeys that should take days are over in hours, though traveling to something within sight never seems to take less time than it should. The one exception to this swiftness of travel happens wherever Sleepers might be attacked as they journey--such as in the Iron Steppes, beset by both terrible storms and the violent predation of dryads. Here, time creeps along at its usual pace, every heartbeat freighted with waiting for when the next ambush might come. The effect's more pronounced in the shards--not helped by the way the land Sleepers have crossed comes apart in their wake, heralding the whole thing's eventual dissolution.

To those determined to find something in the dimension--whether Illarion himself, clues to his whereabouts, or anything else that seems important--a strange butterfly comes to lead them. It is a splendid creature of black and orange and gold, inexplicably eye-catching despite its size. The insect is pathologically helpful, showing no fear of deaths or dismemberments that can't stick. Those stuck in a dissolving shard will find the butterfly frantic, inclined to land on and pull at hair or batter itself against Sleepers' backs to drive them on. If it's nearby as the shard dissolves, it screams in a tiny human voice as it disintegrates.

Sleepers who stay long enough to witness a shard's dissolution will want to scream too as reality unknits and takes them with it. The process is terrifying and painful and drawn out a seeming eternity before they're deposited back in Trench aside one of its many Pthumerian shrines.

Gotta Meet A Guy About A Thing

[butnotyet]

"Oh, sure, John. I'll be delighted to meet your friend, John. Maybe he can make a tabletop character for me, too, John —"

With another muffled curse, Augustine the First, impatient Saint of Patience, shoves another tree branch away from his face, letting go not immediately after passing, but only when he can barely maintain a grip on it — letting it whip back behind him with tremendous dynamic force. Whatever the hell monster has been trying to stalk him gets a facefull of pollen-filled spring new-growth, and lets out an unpleasantly piercing shriek of rage or dismay — or maybe that's because of the tremendously large spinosaurus skull, stripped of flesh but still decorated with most of its feathers, traipsing along fifteen or twenty feet behind him — carried by fifteen or twenty feet, on little spindly legs that don't even remotely look like they ever belonged to a dinosaur — and occasionally snapping its gigantic and overly-toothy maw, for instance at beasts trying to stalk the Lyctor animating it.

Why bring a dinosaur head with him? Two reasons: one, it's wicked cool — just LOOK at it! And two: thanks to Paul, Augustine has a theory that the dinosaur came from the same place as the weird letters, and has heard that this Ford guy is doing ... something ... that's somehow related to them. And that has the potential to be novel, and maybe even intriguing!

(These are the same reasons he's carrying around the very large, leathery egg that the spinosaurus was trying to eat when he lost his mind and then his head — bit of a pity, maybe, that he's carrying it around in something that looks so much like a gigantic monorchid nutsack, but what are you going to do?)

Well, this should be it, he thinks, eyeing the dilapidated ruin of a shrine in the clearing in front of them, as the skull takes a cavalier's place just behind him. "Hello the... portal?" he calls.

3.3 - CONSTRUCTION UNDERWAY

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Owing to the remoteness of the thin spot between the Waking World and Nephele-that-isn't, it's decided that building the portal in pieces and transporting it to its future location will be superior to construction in place. An army of steady hands is needed for this process: To inscribe spell runes, solder and weld, and venture to the portal site (and Nephele-that-isn't) to set anchor points on either side. Ritual components require preparation and storage for transport, and the Palebloods responsible for carrying it off need time and space to practice.

The portal site could not be more dangerous in this month of darkness and corruption: A forgotten shrine to Argonaut in Trenchwood's far remove, washed in emerald moonlight and far from
any Lamp Friends. Bring incense, Sleepers, and when that fails bring weapons, for the beasts and monsters of the wood must be kept at bay for the portal's assembly.

open

[cryptograms]

Working in the field, as always, carries its own set of issues. Even so Ford seems pleased with his current situation, humming a meandering tuneless ditty to himself as he works. Not that it's easy to hear said ditty; Ford is going at the frame of the portal with a welding torch, fusing two prefabricated sections of the base to one another. This is the last bit of the frame he can assemble without help, however. Once he's done he switches off his torch, flips up his welding mask, and turns and points at the nearest unoccupied Sleeper.

"You there! Come hold this next piece steady while I work."

His tone manages to be cheerful, brusque, and commandeering all at once. He clearly expects to be obeyed, even if the person he's addressing is a stranger.