EVENT #1: THE EMPTY THRONE

[aionmods]

The Empty Throne

DESCENT

Nearly two weeks after being dragged from shrine caverns, you hear along the grapevine that the "the throne room is complete." It doesn't take long to figure out what that means; the ritual grounds that you have been hearing mention of are finally prepared, and it's only a short while before you are once again being gathered together for travel. As a small mercy, at least this time the journey is short.

Through a passage that has been blocked by a gathering of soldiers for the entire length of your stay, a stairway is revealed to you. It leads deep into the ruins, through unfamiliar structures and into the bowels of the earth. Though your feel your are mostly going downward, the walk is still long on account of how many stairs their are, and the soldiers escorting you are restless. They are now being led by the stray, mask wearing Achamites that have been accompanying the group till now, silently observing. Whatever place this is, it seems that they now hold court.

Funneled into the chambers below, you are greeted by a massive, domed enclosure of stone. Positioned around its circular radius are twelve thrones in various states of disrepair, sized as if meant to seat giants. The backs of these thrones all differ slightly in design, though most have great cleaves of stone broken loose from their architecture, as if subjected to some great cataclysm. Each is engraved with a sigil, though some have been obscured by the destruction wrought. The throne closest to the entrance has been almost entirely demolished, making it impossible to glean much about.

The dome's ceiling appears to be hundreds of feet tall at its apex, its smooth surface disrupted by stalactites that puncture through its form like teeth. As a result, many chunks of the original structure seem to have cracked and collapsed in to the floor below. When examined closely, these fragments of the domed ceiling seem to be made of a material strangely reflective in quality, though caked in many years of dirt and grime. If large enough sections are cleaned, patterns may emerge, revealing designs that look almost like star maps. The floor beneath your feet as a similar, but subtly different quality, covered in wreckage and ruin but can be cleaned to reveal complex patterns of intersecting lines.

A careful eye will indicate that these lines all lead towards the center of the room - the one space that has been cleared and scrubbed prior to your arrival. Here, the lines converge, with carefully preserved marking in the stone that bely increasing levels of runic complexity the closer you look. This is where the ritual will be held, you are told.

THE RITUAL

There is not much time to regain your bearings before you are being shuffled forth towards the ritual space; no, all the waiting has already been done. Under the command of the smaller group of Achamites, the Hylicians will make heavy use of the whips in leading everyone to their places along the rune-inscribed circle. Before that, however, small cuts will be made to each prisoner with an athame, either on their hand or arm. With a sharp, burning sensation in the afflicted skin, these cuts will spread into wounds reflecting the image of one of the eleven sigils displayed on the thrones encircling the group, and matching the shrine they were originally pulled from.

With this accomplished, they can finally be taken into the circle. With a design comprised of four triangles overlapping, the design of an open eye carved at its center, all prisoners will be led to separates points on its design where the lines cross. Seemingly arranged by their shrine sigil to be closest to whatever throne represents them, they will be brought to their designated positions one by one. Any attempts to flee or disrupt the process will be dealt with swiftly and harshly, exacerbated by the increasing levels of paranoia and fear in the soldiers themselves. Whatever is being done here, they don't seem happy to involved with it either.

When everyone is in place, the seeming master of ceremonies will finally emerge. A dark haired woman will appear from the shadows, motes of golden light fluttering about her otherwise darkness-clad visage. Moving towards the center of the circle, she will stand over the marking of the eye and begin working her magicks. As if on cue, the soldiers will withdraw any remaining whips and scurry to the outside of the circle, only for new bonds of ethereal energy to lash out of the ritual circle itself, binding each and every prisoner and dragging them down to their knees. Among the soldiers, you can hear mutterings identifying this woman as "the Aion."

"Come," she says to the coterie of robed Achamites, who will approach the circle with an assortment of vials collected into cases. There is enough for each prisoner to be given a drink, and so they will; a vial of abyssal liquid will be forced into each one of your throats, no matter how uncomfortably it must be done. While no less ruthless, the Achamites have a different way about them as they work, forcing themselves upon you with a strange familiarity that feels more akin to a mother forcing their child to take medicine than the suspicious hostility of the soldiers. As the foul liquid touches your tongue, it takes on a consistency almost like a living thing, crawling down your throat even if you refuse to swallow, all while the Achamites stroke your hair and make saccharine assurances.

Once all the prisoners have been fed their vial, the Achamamites too will retreat from the circle - all except for one. Joining 'the Aion' at the center, the two of them will begin enacting a planned ceremony of sorts, that culminates in the following scene:

The Achamite kneels before the Aion, lifting their masked face to meet their dark gaze. They speak, in practiced tones.

"To the Kenoma my body, to the Kenoma my soul."

In response, the Aion holds the Achamite's face between their hands in almost a loving gesture. She speaks softly:

"By the blood of the Martyr, I accept your sacrifice."

From the Aion's hands a darkness spreads across the Achamite's body, as if they are melting and dissolving on a cellular level. She kneels along with them, cradling them as their body breaks down, pooling in a void-black liquid around their knees. It drains into the lines of the ritual circle, surging out towards the prisoners.

Within moments, the ritual is complete.

KENOMA SICKNESS

As this dark power surges throughout the ritual circle, you will find yourself almost consumed by the tide. Whatever foul creation you were forced to swallow wakes within your chest, and you can feel it move within your veins, inside you lungs, behind your eyes. As quickly as it begins, the flood of darkness washes over you, but not without leaving you stained.

Something has changed in its wake. As you return to your senses, you will notice the magical bonds of the circle have fallen away, leaving you free to move; for once, the soldiers will not move to lead or restrain you. Instead, the Hylicians warily back away from the ritual space, retreating towards the only path upwards, where they form a defensive line. The Achamites that linger make a series of ritual gestures, praying in voices too soft to hear. The Aion woman stands in the center, her hands blackened with residue from the person you just watched fall to pieces in her arms.

"You will be given time to find your truth," she says. "Use it well."

As you recover from the experience enough to stand, she and her Achamite entourage are already retreating to join the Hylician guard. Gradually, your situation will become clear: they intend to keep your trapped down here. However, it will not be the same as when you waited before. Instead, the soldiers simply intend to block your only exit out, and otherwise leave you free to roam the full diameter of the throne room, seemingly free to do whatever you want as long as it isn't trying to break free of the cavern's confines. Each day, they will offer to their prisoners a limit supply of food, water, and firewood, but nothing more. Beyond that, you only have your increasingly dirty white robes and the same bedrolls as before.

❖ COMMUNION
The first change you will experience is an itching darkness in your mind, like a psychic wound that is becoming infected. The sort of thoughts you would normally try to force down become increasingly hard to resist; despair, hatred, and fear will plague you, and requiring great feats of will to silence even temporarily. Phantoms of the things you'd rather forget will become a constant companion, all while a presence seems to whisper: when you accept your fate, the pain will stop.

Worse than this, the darkness of your mind may not remain private. As if awakened by the ritual, your empathetic sense has become impossibly strong, to the point that you feel the broadcasted emotions and thoughts of others, and in turn, your darkest thoughts will be psychically projected to others with a volume proportional to the intensity with which you feel them. This effect is most potent between those sharing Legacy, with the capacity for their identities to become momentarily confused. In all cases, this connection may bleed into your dreams, or manifest as hallucinations.

❖ TRANSFORMATION
Yet, your mind is not the only thing that ails. In proportion to the strength of your emotions, your body may begin changing to match your state of mind. Physical transformations akin to those mentioned here will begin to manifest, themed to your inner suffering and the most negative aspects of your self conception. These alterations may shift from moment to moment, depending on the turbulence of your emotional state. They may or may not be painful.

❖ AFFLICTION
Along with the above effects, characters may also experience various more mundane ailments; essentially anything traditionally associated with illness could fit. Weakness, nausea, body aches, and chills are all common options. Along with this, void-black ooze may start to trickle from virtually any orifice. While it may stain clothing and skin, the material itself will dissipate after a few minutes in a manner reminiscent of ectoplasm. This effect may also appear around your Shard, as if the stone itself has begun to bleed.

RESISTANCE

Even as the Kenoma threatens to overwhelm you, you still have the power to fight. Though it may be a grueling war of attrition, you can force back its advances with sufficient will to survive and resist the darkness. Of course, your captors are not going to make this easy for you. Those that fight hard enough to expel the Kenoma from their bodies and spirits will take at least a week to do so, and for that duration they will be trapped within this chilly cavern, haunted by their worst thoughts and emotions.

The bedrolls barely strand up against the cold, your clothing doesn't at all, and to be comfortable you'll require fire. Yet, there is a limited amount provided to you, along with food and water, and the soldiers do not seem to be making any effort to distribute it evenly. Achieving basic warmth and sustenance may become a battle against your fellow inmates, all while you struggle against the enemy infecting your body. Cracks in the dome of the cavern lead into some smaller caverns and crevasses in the stone that can offer some privacy or protection, but the more splintered the group becomes the less the supplies will hold up. Fortunately for you, neither the cold nor starvation will kill you, but it will make you suffer.

Yet, you may still persevere. As you fight back the Kenoma, something else will be cultivated in its place. Bit by bit, a comforting and warm presence will grow within you, gradually disrupting the maladies afflicting your body and mind. Your faith and perseverance has been rewarded with an attunement to the Pleroma, the Kenoma's cosmological opposite; given enough time, the Kenoma will be forced from your being entirely, in the form of void-black sludge. Only then will your power begin to shine through, the abilities of your past life slowly returning.

You must keep your guard. With or without otherworldly power, escape will be a struggle.

ACCEPTANCE

Or, you may choose the easy option. Maybe the Kenoma resonates with your history and emotions in a way that makes it seem like it isn't the enemy. Maybe the depths of your despair are too deep to escape. Maybe your simply lack the strength to fight. Whatever the reason, sooner or later, the Kenoma claims you. The more you let it in, the less it feels like a poison and the more it feels like strength. The darkness settles comfortably into the cracks and holes of your spirit, and you awaken to its power. You feel the change viscerally.

This world is not good enough, a voice seems to speak through the Kenoma. This suffering you feel, the cruelty that has birthed this darkness in you... it is simply the rot that is consuming this existence. A better universe awaits, one forged by your own hand, and all you need do is first bring about this broken reality's end.

Whatever effects you were suffering from the Kenoma's presence will fade away, and in its place, you will feel your endurance bolstered. The clarity is stark in comparison to the mire you were trapped in before. As the other prisoners suffer around you, the Aion woman from before and an accompaniment of a couple Hylician soldiers will approach you among the ruins, as if summoned straight to your location. She looks you over, her dark eyes impassive, and then asks:

"Did you feel it?"

She doesn't actually wait for an answer, your expression alone enough to assure her. She'll tell the soldiers that you are free to go, and that you are to be given a share of their food and a change of clothes. She'll escort you out of cavern and towards the upper ruins, where the soldiers and Achamites have set up camp. This feels natural to you, somehow, like you and her are on the same wavelength in a way that is hard to comprehend. She is like you, you sense. That dark power is within her as well.

She doesn't linger with you for long, but she will see that you are on your way before heading back to the caverns. She'll say that the voice you heard, that promise, was the Regent, the ruler of this land. They spoke of a power that could birth a new, better universe, and they weren't misleading you. It's within their reach, closer than ever, and if you help them achieve it you will be rewarded lavishly. For now, you are free to regain your strength while the others make their choices. She only asks that you stay in the area and be ready to join the Regent in Achamoth when all is prepared.

If you're prone to boredom, though, she will mention that you'd really be doing the prisoners a favor by convincing them to accept the Kenoma like you did. You could convince them with words, or by making their situations so unbearable they won't have a choice but to break. However you'd like. It won't be worse than what's coming for them if they carry on this way.

When she parts ways with you, you are left to your own devices. Somehow, you feel inclined to cooperate. After all, the Regent did have a point.

QUESTIONS

Are the involuntary transformations during the Kenoma sickness period temporary afflictions or permanent ones?
By default they are temporary, but characters can also keep a couple keepsake changes if you'd like! An Aion's physical appearance is something that is generally in flux, and so even if you keep something from this event, you can always alter it later.

What kind of supplies are going to be distributed to those who accept Kenoma and leave the caverns?
They'll be given food, water, and clothing. They'll be given more/better rations than they were as prisoners, but it's still the sort of food that is limited by the fact that they are out here on a mission. The soldiers will have some fresh meat from prey they've been hunting in the forest, and will generally be having a lot of stew-based food going. There are actual spices in it, though, so that's cool. This is all set up where the Hylicians are camping.

As for clothes, they will get a fresh set (including boots or shoes) and some soap to clean themselves up in the nearby creeks and ponds. Hylici has an aesthetic that leans towards ancient Greek/Roman, so while they won't have anything fancy with them, you are free to assume they are able to acquire anything in that general ballpark. They do also have pants, though. While it is now spring and Horos has a generally temperate climate, it can be chilly at night.

Will Pleroma attuned be able to escape once they've regained their powers?
Yes, they will be allowed to escape at that point, and a second log will be going up to cover that part of the event. This log should generally cover up until shortly after Pleroma start ejecting the Kenoma's influence. Characters are permitted to escape by their own power if they somehow devise a plan to do so, but as we know the Pleromas are at a significant disadvantage in this situation, some characters who have fought against the Kenoma particularly valiantly will be given some magical assistance to help the survivors escape.

Will the Kenomas be able to try to stop them?
Yes! The second log will be set up to contain some PVP, though given the Pleromas do need to escape, we ask that you play nice. There will be a battle, but it will be structured in the context of the Pleromas having to hold off the Kenomas long enough to escape, so it will be relatively brief.

Can we speak to "the Aion"?
Yes, she will be around for the full length of the event. All characters will have the chance to find her watching over the group whether they are Kenomas or soon to be Pleromas. She will not be that talkative, though, so anyone tagging her will have to lead the conversation. She will not make small talk. Martyrs will recognize her as one of them.

Comments

Yoo Joonghyuk | Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint | Champion

[regretsor]

I. Communion
[These thoughts aren't new to him, but they feel like they come at him harder than he ever experienced. Dark thoughts that slowly clawed through his psyche. He had always crawled through it before. His mind had always been rather brittle though.

Living more than one life and experiencing tragedy after tragedy had left the man broken.

It felt like he was sinking; being pulled down by gravity into an abyss. The man was probably the most docile than he had been since arriving. Quiet and unmoving with eyes unfocused as he looked forward. He wasn't staring at anything in particular. It would be more accurate to say that what he was looking at couldn't be seen by anyone else. It's a stark difference from the stubborn man constantly getting into trouble with the Hylicians.

It's a heavy weight that settles on the psyche. It's more than just a lifetime of despair that's almost suffocating. It gets worse and worse the closer one approaches the regressor, though the man seems to be actively secluding himself.

The thoughts that come are painful. If I had been stronger. It will be better next regression. I couldn't save them. It rolls out like raging waves. The guilt and regret of a man who couldn't protect what was closest to him. It follows with the despair of someone who had become so tired. I want to finish all of this. I don't want to wake up.

Although he turns to glance at whoever might come close, there's no recognition in those eyes.

I want to die.]

II. Transformation
[He slams a fist against the wall of the cavern, not caring about the sting from it or the way it makes his knuckles bleed. It's honestly a lot better feeling than the way his entire body feels on fire.

He leans against the cold surface and the chill is actually comfort for whatever is happening to him. His jaw aches as his canines grow longer and his teeth seem to become sharper. More dangerous. His head is pounding and he barely registers that he can feel the flick of ears. Large wolfish points that blend with his black, wavy locks twitch and swivel with every sound. His nails become more claw-like and the skin of his hands seem to be dyed black.

A distortion of that lone-wolf persona and mentality that he had taken on mixed with his slowly weakening grasp of his own humanity.

Yoo Joonghyuk doesn't move from where he's pressed himself against. He does snarl and glare at anyone who approaches. Gold eyes look at the other suspiciously. His mind is still a jumbled mess. The effects of the Kenoma Sickness was still ravaging his psyche and it was keeping him too on edge. Too tense. His hand twitches if people gets too close. Sharp teeth are bared in warning. He hasn't attacked anyone, but he seems on guard and probably not against lashing out if he feels like he's being threatened. The paranoia in his mind ramped up to 100 as it tries to stave off the despair that was trying to sink poisonous claws into his thoughts like a disease.]

What do you want? If you don't need anything, go bother someone else.

III. Resistance
[Maybe his appearance is misleading. The dark appearance and the heavy weight of his past might make one think that he'd give into despair and darkness easily.

It's the opposite though. He had been struggling all this time and still was struggling. Maybe it was out of spite. He resented the treatment from the Hylicians through their entire pilgrimage. Hated how they were just to accept their fate. He had always been resistant to being the plaything of others. Had aimed to become powerful enough to transcend human limits to fell even stars. It's more than that though. At his core, he was always meant to reject the Kenoma. They were just never compatible to begin with. A regressor who couldn't witness the finality of an end and merely return at the beginning instead of feeling the embrace of death. Despair a constant companion, but also accompanied with hope. That singular goal to make it to the end.

He still had something to protect.

A warmth grows in his chest as the time passes and starts to relieve him of the pain that has been racking his body. Still, he's exhausted. He's still struggling through whatever ailments has a hold of him. Survival was touch and go, but he's managing. Yoo Joonghyuk struggles a bit as he sits up from where he's lying. He feels incredibly weak and he hates this feeling. Their treatment had been nothing less than foul; trying to force the scenario into them accepting whatever ailed them. He groans a bit as he finally sits up right. Brows furrow a bit as he scans the cavern even as his head pounds.] There are less people than before. [He knew the numbers had been dwindling with time. Saw a few of them leave the cavern. It was mostly an observation said out loud to himself.]

IV. Wildcard
[Feel free to hit me up with a personal starter if above options don't work for you. You can also contact me if you want to work something out and I can write something up for you. I can be contacted through DM, Plurk, or Discord (kiehl#6497).]

ii

[salvageable]

[ Considering the small amount of resources they're being given, Dokja had left Joonghyuk's side to see what he could trade or gather. He's not gone for very long, and when he returns, it's with a couple rations of food that he turns over in his hands with a frown. They're practically scraps... Nothing a person in their right mind would deign to eat, let alone glance in their direction.

He isn't given the opportunity to fret about it for too long when he hears the snap of an all too familiar voice, and Dokja hurries over to place a reassuring hand on the shoulder of whatever poor stranger had come across Yoo Joonghyuk's temper.

With a quick "I'll take care of this", he watches as they leave before rounding on the regressor. ]

Geez, is that how you've been talking to the people here? Really, you're—

[ The rest of his nagging dies in his throat when he sees the changes that have taken over Joonghyuk's body, and Dokja's mouth drops open as his eyes first settle on the pair of ears, then drop down to the newly acquired tail. ]

... What happened to you?

[regretsor]

[He lets out a low growl in response. An ear flicks and a swish of his tail. That is definitely the image of a very unhappy man right now. If his mood wasn't already rotten from whatever was afflicting them, having actual physical changes from his body does nothing to help it.]

How would I know?

[At least he isn't gnashing his teeth at the other. If it was anyone else, he'd probably respond more violently. It's probably a godsend that there was someone he recognized that was here. Still, he isn't being too friendly with Dokja either.

He presses the side of his head against the cavern. His body still feels too feverish for his liking and his body aches as much as his poor mind. The ears lay back against his head.]

[salvageable]

[ It's not like he was expecting an actual answer anyway. If this is another symptom of the sickness, Dokja will file it away as better than the insistent voices in their heads.

Still, he looks concerned as he places the rations down and then reaches out a hand to try and tug Joonghyuk away from the wall. There's little strength to his grip, his own body too weak to exert any real force. ]

Turn around. Let me take a look.

[ He sounds tired. How much more of these surprises are they going to get? ]

[regretsor]

[There's a grumble from the man as he pushes away from the wall. He slightly staggers as he tries to keep himself balanced.]

What's there to see? It's a tail, Kim Dokja. [Despite that, he turns around for the other. Doesn't know what they're trying to examine, unless there's more on his back that he can't see. He really hopes not. He can endure it, but he doesn't really want something else to find out that has happened to his body.]

[salvageable]

[ The urge to roll his eyes is fought back as he impatiently watches Joonghyuk do as he's told. The exasperation of the man trying to argue for the sake of arguing is comfortingly familiar at least, but Dokja guiltily brushes the feeling aside. He's still not used to just... having Joonghyuk around again.

But he tries to make it work. Tries to make it what it used to be. ]

Huh. Look at that, it is a tail.

[ So weird! He's seen something similar on one of the other captives here, a friendly guy named Ernesto, but it looks so out of place on Joonghyuk since it... had never been there to begin with. ]

... Can I touch it?

[regretsor]

What did you think it was going to be? [Is the other being an idiot on purpose???] Surely, you know what a tail is when you see one.

[Let him be grumpy. It has been a bad...however long it has been. Days? Weeks? Does time even flow the same way here? It probably doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, but being able to figure out the passing of time would be nice. It's harder to tell while they're stuck in this cavern.]

If you pull on it, I'll kill you. [Emptiest of threats uttered by a man. Well, maybe he might try, but probably not. A little maiming is still on the table, of course.]

[salvageable]

[ Let him be amazed! It's not every day he gets to see Yoo Joonghyuk with the ears and a tail of some sort of animal. A dog, perhaps? Besides, this is doing absolute wonders in distracting Dokja from how exhausted he feels as he collects what little strength he has left to investigate these changes.

Though he's not sure what touching it has to do with investigating. But he's curious. ]

I'm not going to pull it.

[ Well, not purposefully in any case.

But he reaches out a tentative hand to lightly touch his fingers against the tips of fur standing out, then presses in further to fully pet the tail. ]

This is... so weird.

[regretsor]

[He grumbles a little bit as he folds his arms over his chest. The way that the ears just lay flat against his head makes the scowl on the man's face far less intimidating. Though, it probably is scarier when he bares his teeth now.

The fur on his tail isn't particularly soft. It's more coarse if anything. The tail twitches, thumping against his hand as though out of reflex of suddenly being touched.]

You're not the one with them. [If touching them is weird for the smaller man, then being the one feeling it through an extra appendage is even weirder. It's distracting. His mind hasn't completely adapted to the large canine ears or the tail. They're a part of him, but don't quite feel like his at the same time.]

communion.

[lockedon]

[ At first, he thinks the despair threatening to close his throat is his own. It wouldn't be the first time in so many days that the darkness of his past has surged up from the recesses of his mind - or even the first time in so many years. The constant wish for death, the guilt that comes with being the lone survivor unable to save those he loved....they're all feelings deeply familiar to him that resonate within his heart.

It's only when unfamiliar words roll through his mind that the pieces click into place—or don't, in this particular case. Regression...? He looks up, brows pulling together in confusion as he tries to sort through which thoughts are his and which are alien thoughts intruding on his mind. Harder still is trying to pinpoint the source of the unfamiliar thoughts crowding into his mind. It's a futile quest, one he gives up on after only a few moments in favor of a more efficient method.

Namely, by pushing back.

Cut it out. There's a frission of annoyance behind the words that fades quick enough.There's no point dying here. Not when he's sure most of them have too many loose ends to tie up still. ]

[regretsor]

[His brows furrow.

It's a different feeling than Midday Tryst. He isn't sure how to really explain it, but he definitely finds himself somewhat distracted by the intrusion. He still feels like he's sinking. Still feels like he's drowning. Yet, he finds breathing just a little easier.

Wha- He hates how slow everything feels. How hard it is to pull himself out. He had always struggled with things like this. Physical altercations were easy, but the way that a mind can easily be poisoned gets him everytime. Who? How? Very eloquent. They're unfamiliar though and maybe it helps. It cuts through his thoughts like a knife. Not enough to give him clarity, but enough to shake him.

Despair still sits in the back of his throat too heavily. A siren song to drag him back into his catatonic state. How did you?]

[lockedon]

[ Truthfully, he hates any sort of invasion into his space - physical, mental, or otherwise. But the fact of the matter is he's had no say in his preferences over the course of the last three weeks and it would be foolish to start thinking otherwise now. All he can do is grit his teeth and persevere—and adapt, because it's clear he's out of his element here.

It's still difficult to form his thoughts into something solid that he can purposefully project towards others, and he's not even sure his own irritable reply has made it anywhere until he hears that other though creeping in, almost like a disembodied voice inside his mind. Absolutely eerie, but it's all he has to work with for now. Still, he wraps his arms around his waist, a tether of sorts, before closing his eyes and replying back as best he can.

Not sure. Must be that potion they gave us. Since he's never had this problem before. Sometimes if thoughts are too loud I hear them.

Which makes him wonder how many of his own thoughts he's accidentally slammed others with. How many people in this enormous cavern have brushed against his misery and guilt? ]

[regretsor]

[He sighs a bit as he presses the side of his face against the cavern wall he realizes he had started to lean against. The cool stone wall was honestly comforting. Cool his head or something (he knows that's not how that works at all).

Of course. As if shoving it down our throats wasn't bad enough. One could practically hear the unimpressed click of a tongue that comes with that statement. Psychic connections aren't exactly new territory and there's always the things that Kim Dokja seems to be able to do, but this was different.

If he was unknowingly transmitting his thoughts- You heard them then. There's no reason to apologize. It isn't like any of this was of their on volition. It still bothers him, since he wasn't exactly forthcoming about those things. His life wasn't entertainment. What do they get out of this? They're not trying to kill us, but how is this any better?]

[lockedon]

[ They're all valid questions (and ones he's asked himself repeatedly over the course of their confinement) but for all his mind has been constantly spinning, the answers to those questions elude him still.

I don't know. It's a rough pill to swallow, going from the one who had always known the most on his team to knowing next to nothing. All his listening, all his watching, all of it had been largely useless in the face of this new unknown threat. But that's to be expected, isn't it, when he has so little now at his disposal compared to before? Annoyance and frustration swirl around him before being consumed again by everpresent guilt and sorrow that worm their way deeper into his heart.

You could always find out. By giving in. Even if he doesn't purposefully send that last thought, the implication is no doubt clear. It is what they want, after all, the pressure building on them from all sides. ]

[regretsor]

[He can't help but be annoyed. He isn't annoyed at Eustace though. It's not like he expected someone he didn't know at all and somehow was communicating mentally would know exactly why they were being subjected to what they were currently experiencing.

Still, it was really irritating. There was an annoying familiarity with being suddenly thrown into a situation and being forced to make do with it. I shouldn't have asked. We were all dragged into this. He finally pulls himself away from the wall to scan the area around him. Trying to see if he can put a face to whoever he's talking to.

Eventually. And he has no intention of giving in. Eventually just means that he'll figure something out that doesn't come with playing into their hands. There has to be some sort of resolution to this. Because there's no reason for this to continue permanently.]

[lockedon]

[ There's something so familiar about the wave of irritation that descends upon him that he almost laughs. Even if it's not directed at him - though it's not like he can tell, too many conflicting emotions already competing for his limited processing power - it's a reaction he's gotten enough of over the years that it almost feels comfortable. One small thing, unchanged in the midst of everything else that has so abruptly changed.

Damn. Strange to think that he might actually miss Zeta and Vaseraga and the rest of them.

But wishing for anything here won't help him. Not that anything will, at this point; after wracking his brain for so long trying to figure out some sort of solution to the problem at hand, he's come up with both hands empty. It's nice that whoever's on the opposite end seems to hold onto a thread of hope still, but he's not so optimistic.

What resolution are you expecting? For them to just let us go? For us to fight our way out of this? ]

[regretsor]

[He absentmindedly rubs at his temples. Tries to find some relief for his pounding head. Honestly, he'd much rather be knocked out at this moment than deal with this bullshit. At least he could rest a bit (if one can count that resting) instead of enduring whatever had been forced upon them.

I have no expectations. It's impossible be gauge anything. The situation is new to him, which is honestly an impressive feat. He thought he'd seen just about anything thrown at him at this point.

As for fighting our way out of this. That's to be expected. Unless you enjoy rolling over for our assailants. It's too bad the man was much too stubborn for that. It's funny, yet sad, that this still wasn't the worst situation he has been in. The odds were against them, but it had always been that way.

It was just waiting for the moment that something, anything, will give.]

ii - apparently dw ate my comment i'm so upset

[aquaveiled]

[ She needs more. She has to retrieve more, those are the thoughts that repeat in her mind. They're low on supplies and with so many disappearing, turning into those monstrosities--

--wait, was that here? Yes, it's everywhere. Wherever they go people seem to give into despair and their worst fears, becoming the selfsame demons they had hoped to flee from. But for the few that can be saved, they need supplies and it's up to her to see that they are taken care of, isn't it? It always is.

She sees someone huddled over beside themselves, clearly irritable. Instinct tells her he's hiding something...mayhaps guarding something. Something that she needs.

Himeka approaches, the kenoma having taken it's toll on her as well. Her scales have lost their luster, turning pale and colorless. Her hands and feet have turned black, the kenoma slowly dissipating as they move up her limbs. Her hair has turned from a vibrant red to a more subdued version, her normally bright pink eyes now gray, skin stained from the kenoma leaking out of her eyes and nose. She's a mess, but she isn't letting that stop her. ]

What are you hiding there?

Ahhh one day DW will behave without a hitch. u_u; At least we can backtag for eternity.

[regretsor]

[He immediately growls as she approaches. Ears twitch and turn in her direction as it had picked up her footsteps at she approached.

He gives her a glare that doesn't quite have its usual sharp edge. It's drowned out by pain that he was trying to not show. Even as he grits his teeth and tries to push himself away from the wall. Doesn't want to show weakness to whoever this was.]

I'm not hiding damn anything. Why does it matter to you even if I was? It's none of your business.

WE SURE CAN

[aquaveiled]

[ She doesn't believe him--everyone here is hiding something and she's already surveyed part of the area. He stands out and she has to trust her gut. (No matter how wrong her gut has been at the imagined threats she'd seen thus far.) ]

We're missing rations...I think it's very much my business.

[regretsor]

I don't even know who you are and who this we you're referring to.

[He snarls at her. He still keeps his distance because he doesn't want to be around people. Not when his mind is at his worst and his paranoia was at an all time high. Not when he was physically aching from whatever changes that had gone through his body.]

I haven't been near anyone to know they even had rations to even take them.

[aquaveiled]

[ She sees it--she swears she does, a convenient hoard behind him. Her eyes couldn't deceive her, could they? Even when there's a hole in her gut that needs to be filled and not just with food. There are people here who need help...and there are just as many who are making it worse.

That's what you get when you trust too easily, isn't it? Someone lies to you.

Her gaze narrows further. Though she's feeling weaker than she has in days, she tries to make up for it by the conviction in her voice. ]

Someone around here is hoarding. If it's not you, then prove it.

[regretsor]

[He lets out a sigh. It's one of those deeply tired ones that you can feel in your bones.

He shoves himself away from the wall and stands upright. At his full height, he towers over Himeka. Pointed wolf ears lay flat against his head. He's still aching and his mind was exhausted. He looked exhausted. Instead of trying to force her to leave him alone he shoves something into her hands.

A blackened, clawed hand drops some stale bread and a measly slice of cured meat into her smaller ones.] Is this what you call a hoard? Take it and leave me alone.

[aquaveiled]

[ He's over a fulm taller than she is, but...well, most people are. Her gaze only hardens as she stares up at him, challenging and fully expecting to be vindicated.

Yet, when all that falls are a few pieces...

She looks up at the man, at the food, then around them. ]

This...is it?

[ It should be a confirmation that she's wrong, that she's come and accused this man of something undeserved. Instead, it makes her feel sick. Sick with a growing panic. The luster of her scales diminishes almost in an instant, pinks and blues shifting to grays and blacks. ]

This--this can't be it...this can't be all that's left!

[regretsor]

What were you expecting?

[He has to massage fingers at the base of his skull where his ears meet and disappear into curled locks. His head is pounding and everything feels too loud that it rattles in his mind.]

This is all there is because I never approached anyone else. I kept to myself. Are you done now? Have you gotten your fill or accusing me of something I hadn't done to make yourself feel better? [He doesn't know why he bothered to get up. His entire body hurts and his mind feels so hazy.] Will you leave me be already? You got your food, so go.