TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[diceofthegods]

A Night(mare) To Remember

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13:06

Inscryption OST - Deathcard Cabin

Like all newcomers who are called through the summoning circle, your arrival is heralded by a dream. Waking up is a dizzying, disorienting thing... or it would be, if you did. It seems instead that you are swept from one dream to the next.

For everyone else, some time during the night of October 1st is when everyone enters a collective sleep. Do you not sleep? You do now. You feel the exhaustion carry you into a dark, quiet place. No matter how you try to resist, your body will eventually give in no matter where you are. For a time, you rest.

Then, you begin to dream.

The air is bitingly cold around you. As you look around in the dark, the apathetic stars above at last light up some of the landscape before you. You are standing in knee-deep snow. Nothing appears to be in any direction except one, very large landmark.

In front of you rises a modest pyramid. It’s large, but not impossibly so. The stones are frosted. Upon a closer look, they are all cut from ice. Even the door, a crude affair, is encrusted with ice so thick you have to pound the pull a bit to be able to get a hand around it. With much effort, the door opens just enough for you to slip inside to escape the bitter winds.

It closes behind you, and now you are truly in the dark. Night vision or those with heightened senses will find it is no help against this unnatural darkness. You are meant to feel lost, alone, and scared.

Weather you choose to simply pick a direction or feel your way against a wall, the silence is deafening here. You can hear your own blood pumping in your ears (if you have it). Every slight creak of your movements seems like a cacophony.

Then, you see it.

A light.

A bright spotlight, white and sterile, shines down from an unseen source.

However, that is the least of your concern. What it illuminates... now that’s interesting!

It lights up what appears to be a massive statue of a large arctic cat of some kind laying on a plinth. No matter your size, it is much, much larger than you. The head of the great cat gives pause. Instead of a feline face, the the neck ends with a twisted, grotesque mask despite the smile that splits it. It looks like it could burst into laughter at any moment and that might be the worst possibility one could imagine.

Fortunately for you, it doesn't.

Unfortunately for you, it isn’t a statue after all. No, the alarming face turns suddenly to look at you.

It's neck extends much further than it should.

"Hello, weary traveler. Why don’t you stay a while, rest upon my hearth?" it entreats, the mask not at all moving as it speaks. "Tell me, what is your favorite game in the whole, wide world?"

PLAYING FOR KEEPS

You've met the Sphinx. Lucky you.

If you do not simply attempt to flee the creature, it will give you a most intriguing proposition: Tonight, you are a guest in it's realm.

The Sphinx invites you to play a game. Any game, one of your choice, even one from your own world. No need to explain the rules... it already knows how to play.

If you win, it will grant you one of a few things.

1) A wish. Its power transcends even that of Charlie's own. It can do things and give things that he cannot. If you choose this option, a mod will discuss with you how to bring it about (even if it's a little game-breaky). Just remember that these will have permanent in-game consequences, so wish carefully.

2) It will answer any one question. One! No trying to fit in more by clever phrasing. It is the spirit of one question. If you try to skirt the rule, you may find the Sphinx... irritated.

3) A future favor. You may call upon it's aid once, at any time, for anything. You have its word you will be granted as such. Upon which point you decide, it doesn't matter. It will answer the call. (However, if it is something big or game-changing, please contact the moderators for details and planning.)

The game will be played as a straight d20 roll against a mod, best 2 of three rolls.

If you lose the game...

Oh, dear.

The Sphinx makes it clear in the beginning what you are wagering. It's only fair, after all!

( █ cw for: violence, gore, permanent dismemberment, mental and physical manipulation ) It wants body parts. A limb, an eye, an ear, some fingers... you choose what you will wager. Whatever piece of you seems like its worth putting on the line is your decision to make. The Sphinx takes its due, but not cleanly. Not quickly.

When you lose, a table appears beside you. Immediately, you are compelled to lay down. Your body moves seemingly on its own. From the darkness, a mass appears. It has so many hands and head draped in rags. All you can see in the dim lighting is its many teeth smiling brightly at you. It introduces itself to you as the Trapper.

With introductions done, it begins its work. With cold, rusted tools, it removes the wagered part of you with no care. You are unable to move, unable to scream, but you feel every second of the hand-saw, the pliers, the scissors...

Then, after your horrific ordeal, you will wake.

Still missing that part of you. You should probably call someone before you bleed out.

If you decide to try and cheat...

Roll a d20. If you roll anything below an 18, the Sphinx sees you cheating and you immediately lose the game.

If you roll 18 or above- the Sphinx still sees you cheating, but you did such a good job of it that he is amused. You win.

If you decline the invitation to play...

Well, you're no fun.

The Sphinx is very annoyed. It wants entertainment and it will get it one way or another. You are still in its realm for the rest of the night. So, it drops you into a fun little maze to find your way out of.

The Labyrinth

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3:46

Inscryption OST - Leshy's Theme

The Labyrinth is an ever-shifting maze of high walls. Flying over them is impossible as well breaking through or digging under. No matter how you try, it seems like there is an invisible barrier in all ways that keeps you there. It appears to be forcing you to have to find your way out the traditional method.

You are now in a collective dream with anyone else who chose to decline the Sphinx's game. You can find your friends in the Labyrinth... if that is what they chose. Good thing too! You’ll need all the help you can get to find your way out of this place. If you can find the way out.

The Labyrinth not only shifts and changes normally, but it also reflects the worlds and traumas of its inhabitants. Your worst fears come to life here and will pursue you relentlessly. Monsters or horrors from your own memory walk free. They even have the same powers, abilities and weaknesses as they would in your own world. Even the walls themselves can shift to reflect visions of home.

Or, perhaps, visions of someone else's home. You are not the only one that has to deal with your fears and nightmares. You might find yourself wandering into horrors that are unfamiliar to you, but painfully familiar to someone else. Be on your guard.

Extremely unlucky souls may even come across nightmares that... don't appear to have any sort of place. One of these is a strange goblin named Grundor. He calls you 'Master' and talks about eating floor almonds or soaking nutrients from one of your damp washcloths under the sink. You're not sure whose nightmare this is, but it's definitely someone's.

Some might wonder where their local deity is in all of this and why he isn't helping. Once Charlie realizes what's going on upon seeing all the offworlders in a deep sleep? Well...

There's unfortunately not too much he can do to help. The Sphinx is a being that is outside of the rules of this world. So is it's magic. Charlie can do little to break it, but he can offer something: Up in the sky above the labyrinth, you will eventually see a guiding star.

Follow it and you will find the exit to the waking world; however, this night can feel like it had lasted mere hours or several months. Regardless, it does inevitably end.

Any injuries sustained in the Labyrinth will go with you as a parting gift. Best to seek medical attention as soon as possible. You'll also probably need some counseling even if from an unexpected source.

It's going to be a long road to recovery for some, but rest assured you are safe now and will be taken care of.

Notes

⁂ If you lose a limb to the Sphinx, nothing will restore it. No amount of wishes from Charlie, this is magic he cannot even touch. It is gone. Please choose carefully if you wish to take this path and understand the consequences. Although characters will be given the option of fitted prosthetics from Raumm, this will be a permanent change to your character that cannot simply be healed away.

⁂ Sphinx rolls can be done here! As mentioned, it will be best two of three against a moderator's rolls. So, please provide your three rolls (and proof, if possible, via a picture or screenshot) and we will do the same.

⁂ Although perhaps the last person people might expect to counsel anyone, Hoshiko has experience with The Trapper and will share that with people who have also suffered a loss.

⁂ As always, feel free to leave feedback, comments, or suggestions here!

⁂ This TDM is open to all but please mark if you are a current or new player in your header. This way, people can easier differentiate and welcome potential newcomers!

⁂ Full Navigation ⁂

Comments

QUESTIONS, SUGGESTIONS, & FEEDBACK

[diceofthegods]

[maskerades]

we already kinda talked about what Hellen would do but as a refresher:

As soon as the Sphinx offers to play a game, Hellen is going to try to stab it with her Hellsword. I don't expect this to go well, so I'm open to whatever the Sphinx would do as a reaction in this scenario. Let me know what happens!

[abyssalflames]

Do things like horns count as valid things to wager for the purpose of the Sphinx's game?

[fatedfinality]

Can characters opt to go into the Labyrinth even if they won the game against The Sphinx?

ROLL AGAINST THE SPHINX

[diceofthegods]

[docrimes]

Morgana will be essentially daring the Sphinx to try to remove her wings as a barter for the game.

ROLL 1
ROLL 2
ROLL 3

[fatedfinality]

Roll #1
Roll #2
Roll #3

Like the arrogant bastard he is, Ardyn will wager an arm. His right arm. He won't specify this, but I will because then he'd be opposite of Ravus and I'm extremely gay like that.

If he wins though, his wish will be to re-gain the ability to summon Ifrit.

[hasitsthorns]

Roll #1 (lmfao)
Roll #2
Roll #3

Rosie will wager an ear. In both forms, naturally. She'll take the option of the favor since she thinks it'll be helpful later on to have this force on their side rather than against.

[brawlin]

Caspar wagers "a couple of fingers, I guess-- not my thumbs"; if he wins, he'll be asking for a favor for a later time, since he can't think of anything off the bat that seems as useful as that could be.

Roll #1
Roll #2
Roll #3

[bayushkibayu]

The weird woman in a bunny mask doesn't seem particularly surprised by Whatever The Fuck This Is, but will just consider things for a moment before opening her mouth and pinching her tongue between thumb and forefinger.

The Huntress's rolls do not warrant this chillness.

Hoshiko | NPC (for those who encountered The Trapper)

[staywildstarchild]

( █ cw for: talk of dismemberment, gore, torture, psychological trauma, and probably more! )

Wherever someone is healing, Hoshiko will be there once they're ready. She understands that some may not be right away; after all, she wasn't. As she'll confide: It took her weeks to even begin to truly talk about what had happened to her thanks to her own arrogance and pride. Like the person before her, she'd wagered a limb. Specifically, her arm.

Perhaps unlike them though, she won. That just wasn't enough. So, she doubled down. The price became - quite literally - an arm and a leg. The woman removes the long cloak that she normally wears to shroud herself and reveals a prosthetic arm and leg on opposite sides.

The second round of the game, she'll say, she wasn't nearly as lucky as her first. Part of her wonders if that was the universe forcing her to learn a lesson about her recklessness or simply bad luck. Hers had to run out sometime, but it still felt especially cruel to teach her so in such a harsh way.

"So, y'know, no judgement. I'm sure you had a good reason for wanting to play. I wish I could say I did, actually, but... It was just about the thrill, y'know? Pushing my limits. I felt invincible back then. So many close calls and nearly nothing to show for it. Not until this," she speaks, in time with a flex of mechanical fingers.

Ignis Scientia | Final Fantasy XV | Current Player and Character

[threevirtues]

A - Labyrinth in the Rain

There have been times in Ignis's life where he's had to bite his tongue and go along with something that was clearly a bad idea. Most of those times had to do with Ardyn.

In the face of something like this, however? Where he is under no desperate need or time crunch? Where the things he most wants are things he suspects he can manage with his own efforts if simply given some time?

Ignis refuses to play any sort of game.

And that is how he, and anyone else who wants about to a certain extent, end up in a very damp series of labyrinthine walls.

Not many who intrude upon this dream will recognize the architecture of Altissia here in this section of the maze - the intricately carved stone, falls into churning water which would surely drown and batten most people, and the surroundings absolutely ravaged as if by some sort of natural disaster. Here, as well, it also seems to be raining almost nonstop. All of that would be a threat enough, certainly. Obscured vision, slippery floor into horrible falls...

But there's more lurking in this part of the maze.

Magitek Soldiers.

They seem to be everywhere, clear robotic enemies that have cold faces crafted like a person, but move with distinct stiffness... and combat ability as well. They seem to have no care for who their target is, going after anyone that wanders into this particular part of the maze. Anyone who can fight will likely find them manageable... but perhaps the average civilian might have an issue

Their real strength, truly, would be that they tend to come in groups.

Funnily enough, this fear of Ignis's is less to do with being cared of the Magitek soldiers... and more what all of this represents. What he was doing in this part of his life.

But wander through here, and you'll find him soon enough, surely, whether fighting, or traversing the area with a stern frown on his face.

B - Wildcard

[Ignis's biggest fear is actually Noctis being dead, but that's hard to turn into a monster that can antagonize people, as it turns out! His DLC will have to do. In the meanwhile, I'm good with any tagging style. If you have anything in particular you'd like to do with Ignis, just DM this journal or hit me up on plurk under trilies!]

A

[abyssalflames]

For all that his time in Town and the surrounding areas have offered a variety of things that Lahabrea would not have had cause to be familiar with had he remained in his own world, the idea of artificial beings is not something he has yet had any significant encounters with. He can tell that they are most certainly not alive, or not in any traditional means. But the reasoning by their existence - that he cannot easily tell. And yet, it's clear enough that the constructs are here for some manner of reason. If that should be as a result of someone else's fears, so be it. He will stand against them.

(In fairness, they are also standing between him and where he means to go.)

He may not know what to expect, as they begin to converge upon him. But fire blooms in the palm of his hand, as he waits to see how near they mean to draw.

A

[lovelybottom]

The architecture here is unfamiliar to Geralt, but that's ultimately a detail of little importance; more important is the inclement weather that makes the paths slippery and obscures visibility and the roaming bands of... well. They're not soldiers, Geralt's certain of that-- they're not men. They're smoke and magic, like someone trapped a wraith or an elemental inside of a suit of armor.

Geralt has been able to avoid most of them, rather than engage them openly; getting out of this place is more important than eradicating every monster inside of it. But he turns a corner and can hear the sounds of a fight up ahead, and picks up his pace, heading towards the noises. He might not be keen on getting into a fight for no reason, but he'll finish one that someone else has already started.

If there's anything left to finish by the time he gets there. Ignis is a capable fighter, after all.

Mithrun | Dungeon Meshi | current player/character [spoilers throughout]

[orbicularis]

Mithrun knows, the moment that thing speaks, that humoring it is out of the question; he refuses before it even finishes speaking, which it... doesn't seem too happy about. Too bad.

He knew, of course, to expect retaliation - but that doesn't mean he's quite ready for the form it takes.

a

Something about the towering walls and winding passages is familiar, in the way that only a place one has never been before can be. Those segments of the labyrinth affected by Mithrun's memory take on one of two distinct forms: Sometimes, those towering walls are gleaming, polished stone, rich drapery framing windows that go nowhere. Other areas are more... eclectic, the architecture mismatched and disorienting-- that same gleaming stone mixed in with rough-cut bricks and wooden supports, whole areas of the already inconsistent labyrinth looking as though they were cobbled together on a series of whims. There are more windows, too - mismatched, of course, among similarly out of place doors, all impossible to open-- and there are the mirrors, hanging from walls or standing on the floor, almost as frequent as those false escapes.

There is, too, one very specific room in the latter category that may crop up now and then: A bedroom, strangely-constructed but richly decorated, as though the ornate curtains surrounding the bed, its array of comforters and pillows, could disguise the space's piecemeal nature.

There's a distinct sense of wrongness to it, beyond its construction - and, if one happens to encounter Mithrun here, the apprehension in his eyes may just validate that sense that this is a particular place one does not want to be.

b

Then there are the monsters.

For the most part, there are what Mithrun would consider "normal" creatures to encounter deep in a dungeon, but that covers... quite a range, from lumbering minotaurs to... is that a rabbit? It sure looks like a normal rabbit, actually.

(Mithrun will physically intervene if he sees anyone start to approach the rabbits.)

Anyway-- bespite their potential for incredible violence, Mithrun isn't really scared, per se, of most of the creatures his memory spawns; they're just obstacles, things to take out however he can before they kill him or someone else.

Except one.

It doesn't always look the same. Sometimes, it's a creature with the head of a goat, curling horns and a drooling mouth; it towers over those it approaches, large enough to lift a human in one furred hand. Other times, its head is more leonine, though still horned; extra eyes cross its forehead, and a half-dozen gleaming wings curl around it. Sometimes, it's nothing so grand at all: Just an apparently normal goat, its hooves clicking on the stone floor.

No matter what form it takes, Mithrun reacts the same: Immediate, intent, and violent, ripping down whatever projectile he can get his hands on to teleport into its body before he grabs the arm of whatever unfortunate person may be with him. "We need to go, now."

wildcard

[ OOC: Mithrun is familiar with... pretty much every type of monster from his canon, so if there's one you wanna do something with just let me know!! Similarly, if there's a type of scene you want, feel free to ask and I can see if Dungeon Meshi has something appropriate! In general, if you wanna plan something out, shoot me a PM or message me at omixgirl10. ]

a

[peoplepleaser]

As strangely familiar and disorienting as the hallways have turned, they're an immense relief from the hell of crumbling walls and bloody screams Kabru has run from. And just like back in the dungeon, they seem to twist to anticipate his wants, sending him barreling into a bedroom just as he's most needing a break.

So that's another reason for the room to fill him with unease.

It's only a moment later that a familiar figure comes through a different door. "Captain!" The surprise and relief is evident in his voice.

❥ rosie ❥ original ❥ current player/character

[hasitsthorns]

❥ sore loser.
( █ cw for: blood, gore, body horror )

[ After losing the game against The Sphinx, Rosie awakens in her inn. Ah, that's right. This is where she'd fallen asleep on the clock thanks to that unnatural fatigue that'd set in.

Her head pounds not just for the fact she basically fell over onto the floor from the bar but for much more obvious reasons. As she comes back into consciousness, the pain that sears the side of her head grows. Rosie gives a small cry that gets cut off by a hiss through clenched teeth.

The woman sits up and gingerly cups a hand there only to feel warm blood seeping through her fingers. Right. Okay, she has to handle that. Using what she has on hand, a cheesecloth becomes tight impromptu gauze. The blood that soaks the cloth is unsightly, but something she'll worry about in a bit when she needs to change it. For now, she needs to clean up this pool of blood and... get ready for customers, she guess?

Even if everyone was put to sleep, it doesn't mean they won't wake up too. Eventually, some might come here looking for comfort or respite from the traumatic experience. It's important to be a space they can do that, she needs to... Well, first- She needs to sit down. Eugh. Woozy. Her efforts in mopping up the blood are impeded by her limitations due to blood loss and also the fact that she's bled through a couple of those cloths now and keeps making more of a mess.

Either way, people are free to come to her inn and find her frantically mopping up what she can and cleaning. Or, they can see that she's bleeding through the cloth again and just making more of a mess in the end. Someone should probably, uh, stop her. ]

❥ working hard.

[ Unfortunately, she isn't a good patient. Even after being told she should continue to rest and recover and that what she went through was 'traumatic,' she's unable to be idle for too long. ]

I'm just- I'm making sure everything's still good! [ she'll protest, if shooed away or told to let someone else handle it. ]

I'm fine, [ she might even be heard saying, slightly indignant and huffy. ] It was just an ear. Could've been worse. [ Even as she says that though, a hand goes up to touch the now uneven side of her head. The wound is hidden beneath a colored band of fabric to match her current dress, at least, and not unsightly. ]

It's gonna suck having to learn to accessorize a bit better though. [ She liked fashion, but she also wanted to keep this wound under wraps (no pun intended) for the foreseeable future. ]

❥ wildcard / plot with me.

(( hello hi it's your co-mod chai! feel free to hit me up on plurk @ tentamenace or discord under the same name if you have any other ideas or questions! ))

sore loser

[peoplepleaser]

[The best thing to do after waking up in a strange new place, Kabru figures, creepy labyrinth dream or no, is to check out the local inn. It's as good a starting point as any to get an idea of what the town and its people are like. Besides, if everyone else experienced what he did, he'd be willing to wager more than a few of them will be wanting a stiff drink soon, regardless of the time.

There are plenty of smells he associates with a tavern-- blood is not one of them. It doesn't take long to find the source, either. The tall-man woman frantically trying to clean the floors is looking unsteady on her feet. Kabru's brow pinches with concern.]

Excuse me, miss-- you're bleeding. I know some healing magic. May I?

[Maybe if the missing ear were present, Kabru could reattach it, but he's not skilled enough in healing magic to grow a wholly missing part back-- even if there wasn't an outside force blocking that kind of healing. But he can at least stop it from freely bleeding.]

Elidibus | Final Fantasy XIV | Current Player and Character

[zodiheart]

The Beast: ((CW: Apocalyptic Themes, Death, and Violence))

As one travels the labyrinth, it begins to change. The first indication is the strange music upon the air, the tune desperate, a mockery of hope. Such mockery is made clear when the next corner is rounded, revealing a hellish landscape where none had been before. The once great city of Amaurot is burning, buildings reduced to rubble as far as the eye can see, the skies choked with smoke and ash. Meteors streak by overhead to impact in the distance, robed, broken bodies litter the ground, and strange, horrific beasts can be spotted crawling through the distant wreckage.

All of this lay beyond transparent walls, memory rendered into ruthless visions of an apocalypse already come to pass. Rubble lines the true path, made uneven by the destruction, and dead ahead is Elidibus, white robes a beacon against the soot.

But he is not idle.

He faces down a twisted monstrosity in solo combat, The First Beast, a creature that is as formidable as it is terrible. Its spines and blooming horns are the least of its features, the piercing eyes and lack of skin far worse to behold. More haunting still are the gaping maws that line each writhing side, a nightmare made flesh. Elidibus darts along its side, sword cleaving through one of its mouths as he goes - and the thing howls in agony. It shrieks with the voices of all that Elidibus holds dear, a sound meant to torment, to force him to think of those he loves in pain.

But this is not the first Beast he has fought tonight, and he does not waver. He leaps back with his shield at the ready, closer to where one may approach, and sets his stance.



The Ruin: ((CW: Apocalyptic Themes and Violence))

The change to the labyrinth is abrupt, the walls falling away into empty space just as the path turns to violet rock and crystal. Above lay a sea of stars. They seem almost close enough to touch, their beauty a stark contrast to what else may be seen. Far below, a world is dying, the seas boiling, the very land set ablaze. Celestial bodies hurtle through the atmosphere and plunge to the surface, each an end of many lives unto themselves. These are the Final Days of Etheirys, shown through transparent walls. It is a planet-wide scale of death and destruction, made all the more eerie for the absolute silence this far above it all.

Ahead stands a hulking figure that blocks the whole of the purple path, a harbinger of despair whose sole purpose lay in seeing the world ravaged utterly by fire and flame. Therion. Born of the deepest fears of mankind, it is a creature cobbled together of many pieces, each aspect meant for death. Standing against this unspeakable horror is a far smaller figure clad in white robes, alone where once upon a memory there had been many.

Elidibus.

Those many mouths open to begin a song of nihilism and despair, but he is unmoved. Though he is alone, he cannot fall. He will not. The only way out is through.

There is just enough time to come to his aid.



The Void: ((CW: Psychological Horror))

He has been wandering these paths for an untold amount of time. Had it been hours, days, weeks? Months? Were it not for the feel of solid ground beneath his feet, Elidibus would assume he had been exiled into the void between worlds once more. There is nothing here. The walls have substance, when he reaches for them, but they are blank, blending seamlessly into the floor and ceiling. The path behind is just as invisible as the path forward, every step feeling more pointless than the last. He is an island of white in an eternity of nothing. A vast emptiness, bereft of all but darkness.

Or it would be, were it not for the voices.

An endless symphony of the screams of his people. But not meaningless cries, no. They call for salvation, they howl for hope, and they beg him for deliverance. Millions of them, overlapping and drowning out his thoughts with their sheer number and volume. "Emissary, you must save us! Help us! Elidibus, please! You are our final hope you are our salvation please, you must save us save us saveus saveussaveusSAVEUSSAVEUS-"

He knows where this place is. Had lived it for untold eons - this hollow emptiness was him, all that remained when he had given everything and more. A hollow void, and once more he was left here to rot. At long last, his resolve wavers. He cannot hear himself above the din. His voice had been drowned once before, and so it is again - he is lost he will lose himself he can feel the pieces slip through his fingers it is everything he feared most-

Elidibus presses his hands to his ears, clutches his head, and screams.



The End: ((CW: Blood and Severe Injury))

Morning light brings disorientation and dizziness rather than clarity. Elidibus makes his way to the door to his home and takes a few steps outside, heedless of the way his door slams open, desiring the open sky after the night's ordeal and craving the wind upon his face. Everything feels strange. Distant. Was it a remnant of the dream? It is so difficult to focus. With the next step his feet catch and he comes crashing down onto his knees. Behind him, his wings hang limply, bent at strange angles.

But why? Looking down gives the solution.

It is incredibly obvious as to why Elidibus stumbles; his robes are torn along one side and tangle in his feet. He stares, confused. When had he ever worn crimson robes? A small portion remains white, yes, but the majority is a deeper red than even his mask. The colored cloth shines suspiciously in the light, and when he touches it, his hands come away wet. All at once it registers - blood. His lifeblood weeps from his body in an ever-growing flow, a steady drip from the devastating wound upon his side. He cannot get a clear look through the mess of blood and cloth - but knows that the lack of pain is anything but good.

The lightheaded feeling increases, and his vision begins to narrow. He has to get up, to call for help, but - his body is suddenly so heavy, and he is so, so very tired. Eyes slipping shut, he crumples face-down in the dirt without a sound.



Wildcard:

((OOC: Feel free to post something else or hit me up in Discord or in DMs if you'd like a closed thread or something else other than these prompts, I'm open to most anything.))

To Begin We First Must See The End.

[recreator]

Ravenous Cold.
Oppressive Darkness, unfeeling and blindingly empty in a way he has never before known. No, not even way back when.

The end finds him, as it is wont to do. How many times has he replayed this scene in dreams, in memory, and vision? One of scorching heat and ash that falls like so much smothering rain, painting the apocalyptic ruins of Amaurot in monochromatic shades, filling his lungs until he is gasping with it, certain he will suffocate. His own heartbeat thunders deafeningly loud yet lost beneath the cacophony and destruction. He is alone. And alone he awakens to a shrill ringing in one ear and a blurry, lopsided view of his writing desk. It is then that the dull, heavy ache expands, one which cannot be explained away by a night spent sprawled over a wooden floor. A souvenir from that dream world. The Labyrinth. A new and personal hell.

He is slow to drag himself to his feet, bones creaking and muscles sore. What a charming confirmation that all is in order (for a mercy). It soon becomes clear that his right eye is swollen and bruised, but that is a problem for later. For now, he makes for the door - opening it upon a clear sky and a chill autumn breeze. Nothing appears out of place at first, and with that determination he expands his Sight, seeking out the others... It isn't fear or worry that spurs him to do so, merely duty. Or so he will tell himself.

Yet it's in the midst of this that his attention fixes alarmingly upon the neighboring lawn and the waning well of aether laid out face-first in the grass.

"Elidibus!"

Old habits die hard, it seems, but Emet-Selch wastes no time rushing to his side - an act which has his own head spinning as he half-kneels, half-crashes onto the ground next to him. His body moves of its own accord, thoughtless and urgent. A hand outstretched and a transference of aether. It will not and cannot be enough to heal Themis properly, but his is one of the few reserves which can even hope to reverse that outward flow. For once, he is not stingy with its use.

Indeed, a mere mortal would already have expired from the amount of blood lost - but they are not mere mortals, and he will not allow the Emissary his return whilst the rest of them yet remain. He turns him with painstaking care, enough to reveal the bones within his wings have been shattered, and that much of the flow stems from an unenviably deep gouge in his side. That will need to be hindered with all haste. They'd best get him someplace warmer, too.

"Themis, can you hear me?" he hisses. "I'll spare you the lecture for now, but we must get you back inside and delivered unto the hands of a healer."

Best to keep talking - for the both of them, really. Were this one of Elidibus's many borrowed bodies he'd have not given in to such worry, yet their Great Work is done and the face and form before him are those he knows well; one of his own. One he has grown to love.

Melinoë | Hades 2 | new character, current player

[somoteitbe]

☾ the labryinth.

Melinoë is no stranger to unnatural dreams; often times, they had been The Fates attempting to tell her things through limited prophecy. The vision of the dragon feels reminiscent of that but not quite the same. The monster her mind calls forth after it though - The Sphinx - is unsettling.

Tempting as the offer is for any wish to be granted, she knows well enough that things that are too good to be true usually are. 'I won't play your game,' she tells it, only to be scoffed at and dismissed. To where? A labryinth, apparently. Unlike the winding ways through Erebus that she spent years finding familiarity in though, this is completely new and foreign to her.

And without any of the Nocturnal Arms, she does feel a bit more vulnerable than usual as she turns corners and tries to navigate her way through this maze. It might seem strange that nothing is pursuing her yet, but that's the point: one of her worst fears is being utterly, completely alone. The silence is stifling. She calls out now and again to receive nothing but more quiet in answer.

Eventually though, she stumbles upon someone else and seems more relieved than anything. That may change if their nightmare makes an appearance, but for now-

"Hail, traveler," she greets, giving a small bow at her waist politely. "Are you just as lost as I am here? I can't seem to make heads or tails of these passageways."

☾ in town.

Once the collective nightmare is over and everyone is awake again, there seems to be some damage control necessary. Although only just arrived, the woman wants to help where she can. One catches more flies with nectar, after all.

"I can't heal," she says, to someone injured, "but I've certainly had to patch myself up more than once after a long night." As she speaks, Melinoë works with the basic supplies they have here. Reagents like Calendula, Echinacea, and honey to help with inflammation but also the taste. Most healing herbs can be bitter on their own. The scent of chamomile is also strong as she's used some both to make tea and offer a calming scent.

"Drink this," she says, about the tea and honey, "and be warned: this might sting a little. But I promise it'll help close your wounds and the healing process along a little quicker." Without much more warning, she applies a pasty balm to their injury.

☾ wildcard / plot with me.

(( hello hi it's chai once again! this time, I'm bringing you the best underworld princess! I have an opt-out for her here since the game IS fairly new and I know people are avoiding spoilers. otherwise, feel free to hit me up at tentamenace on plurk or Discord under the same name if you wanna' do anything specific! ))

Labyrinth

[awesomegaolgreatjob]

Despite the situation, oddly Erich feels... strangely at home in the Labyrinth. At least the parts that don't look like a chaotic Pandaemonium or Amaurot on fire. Here, it's... oddly familiar but not quite. He holds a chain in his hands, pulled taught, still ready for anything despite not being in a blind panic. At first when he rounds the corner and sees someone else, he tenses-

No. This is... someone from Town? He doesn't recognize her, but then again, he doesn't get out much.

"You were trapped here as well, then?" he returns the curt bow out of habit. "I am afraid I am just as lost as you appear to be. However better to be lost in a pair than alone I would posit." He pauses for an awkward moment and then remembers.

"Oh- I am Erichthonios. Well met."

dimitri alexandre blaiddyd ♔ fe:3h (pre-timeskip ♔ current character/player

[boarishboy]

♔ the labyrinth.

Although Dimitri takes The Sphinx at face value, he also politely declines the invitation to play. Having such a powerful ally would be potentially useful but... It isn't worth the risk to himself. If it was just him to consider, he might have made the attempt.

But it isn't. He has Byleth here who cares about him too much to see him hurt. While he may not entirely understand why yet still, he wants to trust the man's faith in him and not do anything reckless.

He gets dismissed and dropped unceremoniously into the labyrinth. The air around him takes on a biting chill and snow begins to fall in gentle, delicate wisps despite the clear sky. It reminds him of home in a way, which- Perhaps that's the point? Lulling him into a false sense of security? After a moment though, it isn't just the crunch of snow under his boots he hears.

Someone breathes heavily at the end of a crimson splatter staining pristine white. The face that snaps up to look at him is Dimitri's own: a dark reflection with one blue eye, blood staining his lips and chin, and hair long and unkempt. He's older, bulkier, but it's undoubtedly himself- This is the him he saw in Byleth's memories of Amani, wasn't it? Well, not quite. It's the man he knows he'll become before even that.

He terrifies him. The older Dimitri lets out a low growl from deep in his chest before grabbing a spear at his side and lunging forward like some sort of crazed animal. "W-wait, stop!" the boy tries to protest but it falls on deaf ears. All the older version of himself sees is the boy he was and should be dead. They are, unfortunately, each other's phantoms in the worst sort of way.

Seeing no other option, Dimitri runs. So does his older counterpart but with more reckless abandon. He slides on the snow and slams into a wall - cracking the concrete - with a roar as they round a sharp corner. Puffs of breath pass Dimitri's lips as he races to find somewhere safe, someone safe. He doesn't want to inflict this beast upon them either but perhaps there would be strength in numbers.

♔ the aftermath.

He, like many, doesn't awake unscathed. His injuries aren't severe as some who played The Sphinx's game but he still has a spear wound to combat. Physically, he's seen better days but could be worse off.

Mentally? That's another story. Despite waking with a start and needing to be brought down from a panic attacking, he's now withdrawn. Not despondent, exactly, but much more quiet and contemplative than usual. He even gets lost in his own thoughts and might need a bit more to grab his attention than usual.

He isn't ignoring anyone, honest! He just has... a lot on his mind. One of those things though is not how he's holding up a line somewhere by standing there disassociating so. You know, he might need to be snapped out of it even if briefly.

♔ wildcard / plot with me

(( after months of writer's block kicking my ass, trying to get back into the swing of things with Dimitri especially! lmk if you want to plan anything specifically otherwise I'm tentatively dipping my toes back in for now with this top-level and tagging out on the TDM. ))

the labyrinth

[perfectteatime]

He hears a familiar voice, ripping him out of his ashen reverie. One of his. One of his flock. Dimitri.

Dipping away from the foe he was fighting with fluid motion, he makes a beeline for where he heard the shout. Dirt becomes snow beneath his feet, and at last he watches as his dearest Dimitri smashes headlong into a wall. The beast pursuing him--

No...

Without hesitation, he slides in between the two of them, initially raising his blade, but he doubts that is truly the answer here. He will wait and see what this shade does first. At the very least, he is in front of his charge and unwilling to move from his protective position.

"Dimitri."

Kabru | Dungeon Meshi (new player/character)

[peoplepleaser]

labyrinth cw: death, vague gore

Even if he weren't already put on edge from the blind stumbling in the dark, Kabru still would not have entertained even a moment of the monster's offer. If something so inhuman is clever enough to trap him here to play games, it's certainly clever enough to cheat at them, and he'd prefer to keep all his body parts where they are.

He's immediately sent into the labyrinth for his trouble. At first, it still seems the better option. Endlessly twisting passages were par for the course in his previous line of work. Going it alone and unarmed... less so, however.

It is at least bright enough in the passageways that he doesn't have to spend what little mana he has on magelights. That's little comfort when the environment begins to shift, however.

Nondescript walls become the walls of homes, impossibly tall but still unmistakable. Some have collapsed, but rarely enough for someone to squeeze through-- and when you can, you get the sense it's just another path through the maze, not a shortcut. The windows are too small to pass through, and each give a glimpse into a grisly tableu. Humans (unarmed, civilians, helpless) and elves (all uniformed, some armed, some not, rarely faring any better) mauled by monsters, some still being consumed by the beast that slew them, some barely still alive. No matter how much you might try to break through to help them, you never can-- you can only watch, or look away. No matter your choice, the screams and the visceral sounds of the monsters catching up to their prey will follow you. The air reeks of blood and death.

Kabru chooses not to look, because he has seen all this before, both when it actually happened and in nightmares ever since. That doesn't stop the fear from strangling him, however. He sneaks past windows as silently as he can manage in his increasing panic, the dread that one of the monsters behind the walls will notice him and burst through it growing with each step.

He wasn't any good at fighting them when he had a sword and a party with him-- what hope would he have now?

hey you. you're finally awake.

The circumstances of his arrival do not give Kabru the best first impression of Charlie, and neither does his so-called 'godhood'. He tucks his suspicions away for the moment, however-- there will be time to investigate it later, after he's gotten the lay of the land and, far more importantly, the people in it.

Anyone who spotted Kabru however briefly in the labyrinth will see someone who seems entirely different in the waking world. Despite how rattled he rightly should be, he is calm and quick to offer a hand to anyone who might be struggling with injuries. "Are you feeling alright? Let me help you."

If he can't heal it himself, he can certainly help them get to someone who can.

[ooc: me looking over the game info like "oh boy a premise guaranteed to be hell for kabru specifically!"

any of dungeon meshi's many monsters available for labyrinth, and there's also all the otherwise unmentioned creatures in these panels. but really every monster is a nightmare to kabru so it's all fair game c: ]

Labyrinth

[bayushkibayu]

Fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on one's perspective- the person Kabru is about to run into is just built different.

In many ways.

Rather than being terrified or on edge as any average person would be, the woman he finds crouched before one of the windows is incredibly calm. A genuine calm, in fact, with absolutely no tension in her broad and muscular shoulders. Maybe even... a touch of excitement as her fingers tap across one knee while she surveys the window thoughtfully. Blood is splattered across her simple and practical clothing - none of it hers - and the many hatchets decorating her waist show good use as much as good care. In on hand, she holds a solid axe.

....Granted, she is also wearing a half mask of a hare, and her eyes are black all the way through, so maybe there's just more reasons to be worried here.

At least, however, Kabru won't have to worry about her attention on him too much. She glances over at his arrival - and quite an early glance, too, showing hearing perhaps appropriate to her mask - before dismissing him.

There are more interesting things to hunt right now.

Byleth Eisner | Fire Emblem Three Houses | Current Player | CW: Violence/death/war

[perfectteatime]

Crest of Flames, Demon of Ash

Hell can be defined very differently depending on the person. For anyone nearing Byleth's location, they will be immersed in the din of a fierce battle, the sounds of shouting, steel and death abound create the music of war. A ceaseless conflict rages.

At it's center, Byleth moves fluidly through it. One might wonder if he was truly suffering for his prowess and the way he cuts down every foe that appears before him. Though he is far from the mild, curious man that most of the residents know at current. His expression is blank as usual, but there is very little light behind his eyes. He's not just expressionless, he's cold. Like a machine built just for this. One could mistake him for a man taking a casual walk, not someone at the center of a chaotic battlefield. The efficient brutality he wields is in stark contrast to any other part of him.

It is precisely this part of himself that he has kept well hidden from his friends here, but now it is laid bare. He barely seems to be aware that he ought to be looking for escape, as focused as he is on his task at hand, cutting a bloody swathe through the crowd.

Its gaze turns skyward, and fiery rain falls from the heavens.

Navigating the labyrinth of his own fears was enough, but to encounter the visions of others...

Byleth had been drawn to the faintly familiar silhouettes of reaching spires and tall buildings. Hoping to find some of his friends or lovers there within. Though it glowed with the orange haze of flames rather than the peaceful light of Amaurotine life. He knows this. Distantly, but he knows this. Navigating the crumbling streets as robed figures so many times larger than himself run in the opposite direction, shielding themselves from the fire and debris that rain down from above.

He tries to call out... searching for those familiar faces, but his voice is drowned out by the chaos. He barely gets out of the way as another wave of fleeing citizens stampedes by, only to find himself face to face with what they were fleeing from.

A grotesque, bulbous creature, somewhat resembling some kind of twisted bird stands before him.

Fine. If this thing is standing between him finding Hades, Themis and Lahabrea, he will go through it. Bravely, and perhaps stupidly, he squares up.

Its gaze turns skyward

[abyssalflames]

Lahabrea is not as hard to find as one might expect. Though he knows not whether this iteration of Amaurot has come from his own memory or that of another he knows this moment. Knows it enough that it visits his nightmares still, even after so long spent in another world and even having set foot in this waking hell has him on edge. The screams, too, send echoes of fear down his spine. Ones he knows he could well fall prey to. As could they all, in the end, but if there is one saving grace, it is this: he has fought this fear once before. Known it and come out the other end, even should the Final Days have not yet been truly averted.

He knows, too, that were this the Final Days in truth he would have spent much of his time in the meeting hall of the Convocation, deliberating on how their world might be saved.

But this is still his world. His people, who he yet has a duty to, be most of them naught more than a dream. It's only when he rounds on the creature that he spots Byleth, and that gives him pause, for just a brief moment. Still, he doesn't doubt Byleth's martial prowess. If he means to fight one of the beasts of the Final Days than so be it... but neither does Lahabrea mean to stand idly by.

"This is no foe to be fought alone."

Given that Lahabrea is stepping up to stand beside Byleth even as he speaks, it's clear that he means to assist.

Viktor | Arcane | current player+character

[hexcrafter]

[i; setting sail, coming home; cw: likely talk of classism/ableism/terminal illness/death]

[Traversing the labyrinth would gradually shift it into something sharp and jagged, corridors widening and yet still somehow enclosed--a civilization built into the towering walls of a deep stone fissure. Winding ever downwards in paths carved into jagged rock, as one traveled further the fissure walls seemed to twist into infinity; still enough light to see one's surroundings, and yet the sky so far overhead that it may as well not have been there at all. A sickly sweet chemical smell began to travel the stagnant air, a thin haze of grayish-green permeating the atmosphere.]

[Further down, the settlement turned into a labyrinth of a different sort; winding alleyways, turning in upon themselves in the difficult terrain of thin pathways in an abandoned neighborhood. Throughout all of it; the descent, the stone, the alleys...not a single living soul could be found in the gradually thickening chemical miasma. Instead, the faintest whispers could be caught on the air, felt like thorns more than they were heard in words--trencher, broken, useless, diseased--]

[No matter what turns one took or how long they traveled, all paths led to the same place--Emberflit Alley, read a faded and broken wooden sign left rotting on the ground. Deep in stone fissures, the ruins of a broken-down shop still remained. Scrap metal and mining tools littered the tables and shelves, long since rusted by age and abandonment along with the dilapidated building itself; wood splintered, windows cracked or broken, and all of it covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.]

[No one had lived here for years. Decades, possibly.]

[So of course, this was where one would find Viktor. Sitting in a chair that was barely holding together, gripping a metal crutch as if it were his only lifeline, alone in the depths of terrain he had no ability to escape.]

[ii; the horror and the wild; cw: drugs, animal experimentation]

[Or perhaps, higher up where the Fissures still saw a hint of sunlight, you took a different turn. Following the sound of water, one could find a small stream winding through the jagged stone--water runoff from the city high above, one of a thousand ways the Undercity lived in a massive shadow. Following the stream led downward--into a wide cave where the water pooled shallowly, nourishing strangely glowing violet plantlife that spread along the walls and ground.]

[Devoid of inhabitants, the only notable thing in the cave was the door set into the far wall...from which now radiated a system of deep lines like veins traveling from a beating heart, the same toxic neon purple and almost seeming to pulsate in the dim sunlight.]

Don't-

[The click of metal on stone called attention to the only other person here; a deeply shaken Viktor, standing as far from that door as he could. Before he could elaborate any further, an unearthly and inhuman trilling shriek emanated from behind that door, causing Viktor to recoil with his whole body and a look of abject horror on his face.]

[iii; unrest in the house of light]

[All dreams eventually faded with the dawn, but even mundane dreams left traces.]

[Viktor rarely left his house in the days that followed, whether from shame, embarrassment, or some deeper mixture of similarly unpleasant emotions. But he at least knew closing off completely was futile; however hesitantly, he would still answer the door or calls on the network.]

[It would not occur to him for at least a week, in a bitter moment of self-hatred, that he should have just gambled his leg and gotten it over with.]

He fought the darkness, the darkness won (Unrest)

[zodiheart]

[It takes some number of days before Elidibus is able to stand and walk on his own with the severity of his injuries. Even now he is not fully recovered, wings bound back and immobilized by a series of splints, each step a sluggish limp. Still, he's managed to slip away from those that have been diligently assisting his recovery. Firstly, to give them a break from doing to - though he recognizes that his note may leave much to be desired when his absence is discovered - but also to lay eyes on Viktor.]

[Could he have called over the network? Perhaps. But a drive to get out into the air and to physically see the other man has been nagging at him. And, in his defense, he is being economical and cautious about his movements. His mask is present, but clipped upon his belt-line, and his robes are nowhere to be found. He is, instead, wearing a simple grey linen outfit. It's quite easy to move in.]

[Finally stepping up to Viktor's door, he knocks, and waits.]

Lahabrea | Final Fantasy XIV | Current Player

[abyssalflames]

{i: Final Days}
[For all that Lahabrea had, genuinely, considered the offer of the Sphinx, in due time he makes his choice and finds himself dropped into the labyrinth for his troubles. Still, at first it seems harmless enough. An endless maze, with naught save to find one's way out difficult though it may be. And so it is, for a time.

And then the sky overhead shifts, turning a fiery red as the walls too shift and fade until it is no longer a labyrinth but a city. One where the stars themselves fall from the skies and malformed monsters stalk the streets, sowing terror wheresoever they go. A vision Lahabrea knows well, even as he readies himself to deal with whatever terrors should make themselves known.]

{ii: world boss}
[It is, however, not only visions that stalk the Labyrinth. Though the Final Days are terror enough, even those who are not treated to visions of the Final Days may find themselves faced with a beast unlike any other, standing on four legs with a mouth that yawns far wider than perhaps it ought. But appearances aside it is no less deadly. No less a terror and it's baleful gaze falls on any who draw too near.

The only question is whether to turn around or to try and confront the beast itself.]

{iii: Pandaemonium}
[The depths of Pandaemonium are never the most comforting. The ever-present gloom in the absence of any direct sunlight sees to that much. And yet, for all that there is light enough to see by it still feels... gloomy. Almost oppressively so, and even here, in the deepest depths of Tartaros this feeling does not change. The echoes of chains hang over head in what might otherwise pass as a sky; as what look almost like giant test tubes stand all but empty in the back of the room.

But it is the eyes that are the worst. Phantom echoes in the sky, glimpsed only out of the corner of one's eye but insistently, damnably present. And in the center of it stands Lahabrea, apparently lost in thought.]

{iv: a-wandering I go}
[When he is not dealing with the manifestations of his own fears, Lahabrea can also be found simply wandering through the labyrinth, ever seeking for a way out. Though he will still stop to speak to anyone he happens to know.

Or perhaps he has wondered into a fear of someone else's making, instead.]

World Boss

[zodiheart]

[Soft footsteps approach from behind, blessedly muffled against the stone so as to not draw the creature's ire, and it is with silence that Elidibus draws up alongside Lahabrea. He knows his presence familiar enough that the Speaker would know him without sight, and says nothing. Together, they look up and out at the might that is Archaeotania.]

[Then Elidibus breaks the silence with a soft murmur.]

Whatever action you choose, know that I am with you.

The Last Dragonborn | The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim | Current Player

[drehnifusbahi]

I. A Dance In Fire
[Laying eyes on the thing feels like the half second of prickling awareness before laying hands on Meridia's Beacon, the stomach-turning realization of just what the Oghma Infinium was bound in. Vanyel is already taking a half-step back when the thing opens its uncanny mouth and *speaks*.

The offer is tempting, of course. Any wish or favor he could name... yet he thinks of the knowing edge to unassuming little Sam Guevenne's smile, the honeyed promises of Clavicus Vile. The calm, implacable certainty of Hermaeus Mora.] No, [he says at once, instinctively.] Thank you for your hospitality, but-

[And that's all it takes for Vanyel to find himself hitting his knees in the Labyrinth.

It's not all bad, at first. He gets his bearings, conjures a magelight and his familiar, and sets off, guided by the occasional flicker of a Clairvoyance spell or Aura Whisper Shout. Then the Labyrinth starts to... change, in his wake.]

II. In the Depths of Apocrypha
[For Vanyel, and anyone else unfortunate enough to wander through the same areas he has, he walls fall away, revealing glimpses of a sickly green sky between tottering columns and arches of stacked books that hold together even when physics say they shouldn't, while the stone floor gives way to a veritable carpet of petrified paper and leather as the layout somehow grows even stranger and less Euclidian.

Brackish black water with an oily greenish sheen seeps between cracks and pools in low points in the path. Deeper ponds fill themselves beneath bridges that used to be solid stone floor. Vanyel avoids the puddles, however shallow they may be - and the oily black tentacles that burst from them to lash out at unwary passers-by. The especially lucky might feel the weight of many, many, many eyes on their back, or hear the wet and rasping whispers of the Gardener of Men himself.

Then there are the residents: shabby-cloaked Seekers with their bony, grasping arms and hulking Lurkers that emerge from the deepest pools. The Seekers flicker in and out of view, swarming intruders with illusory duplicates; the Lurkers simply charge, attempting to rend and tear.

And Vanyel fights every one he comes across, because what choice does he have? Sometimes he fights them on his own two feet, with blade and spells and Shouts. Other times, he fights on four legs, the sickly light shimmering off bronze feathers and fur as he lashes back at whatever challenges him with tooth and claw and flaming breath. And Shouts, still, because he may not wear the *form* of a dragon of Tamriel any longer but he still has the soul of one. In either form, he's wild-eyed, twitchy, reactive.

Because for him, this is the nightmare: trapped in Apocrypha, wandering endlessly. And if he chances to see his reflection in the murky water, it's someone else looking back.]

III. In the Light of Day
[He comes to in his own garden, sprawled half in and half-out of one of the emptied beds he was turning over in preparing for winter, and scrambles up onto hands and knees with a strangled gasp. He may have avoided the Sphinx's games, but that doesn't mean he's unharmed; he patched up the worst of the wounds the Seekers and Lurkers dealt him, but he couldn't get them all. And, of course, he's every bit as exhausted as if he'd spent the whole night running the gauntlet through Apocrypha in truth, not just in dreams.

His throat, in particular, is raw and inflamed from chaining Shout after Shout after Shout in his battles; he didn't do all of it as a dragon, and the human throat isn't built to channel the raw power of the Thu'um for so long without rest.

Still thoroughly rattled by the vivid nightmare, and not entirely convinced that's all it was, he summons Reman for company as he goes inside to get cleaned up and brew some strong, honeyed tea for his throat. He knows from experience that his own Restoration spells can only do so much for it.

And frankly, he has bigger things to worry about; he got off lightly and he knows it full well. So once he's finished his ablutions he heads into Town with Reman trotting at his heels. He remembers there were others running the same maze, and he has a sinking feeling that those who lost at the Sphinx's game are even worse off than the maze runners. His magic may not be comparable to Charlies (or the Sphinx's, if its claims were true), but he can at least help stem the bleeding and encourage wounds to close.

So that's precisely what he's going to do.]

IV. Wildcard
[If you want to plot anything specific, feel free to hit me up at moony810 on discord or plurk!]

ii

[bayushkibayu]

[Unfortunate for some people, maybe.]

[Other people have... interests. Or obsessions. Or problems. Whichever word one would most like to use in describing the woman who has made her way into this strange location and its nauseous sky.]

[In truth, it reminds her of familiar hunting grounds she's been put into before, although not wholly like one or the other. The overwhelming number of books all made into strange stacks, but no crows to cry out or sand kicked up into her boots. Strange skies like nothing back home but everything like the alien jungle and its one metal building being overrun.]

[None of it really matters. What matters is that this is just another hunting ground... and there's plenty of prey.]

[Vanyel gets to experience this hunter's delight when he does a Shout at one of the Lurkers. In the midst of all the combat, it's highly likely he's not been able to catch the sound of humming becoming ever louder... Not until, as the Lurker rights itself from the vocal blow, a hatchet comes flying through the air to lodge itself neatly into its shoulder.]

[The tall and muscular woman in the hare mask might not be a follower exactly... but she seems excited nonetheless to fight at least in Vanyel's proximity as she readies another hatchet.]

Zagreus | Hades | current player/new character

[escapeattempts]

{Labyrinth}

[Bizarre and ever-changing labyrinths are, to be perfectly honest, entirely normal as far as Zagreus is concerned. True, there are a lot more places here than he's seen before - and almost none of them anything actually familiar - but the idea is at least similar enough. Even if wherever this is seems to be somewhat beyond the reach of Olympus.

(It's fine though. Really. He's not worried. It'll just be a little different.)

Still, as he makes his way through the ever-changing hallways some of them do start to shift.]

{a: Elysium}

[The halls change slowly, at first. The stone of the labyrinth's halls fading away to something that looks... almost pleasant, for somewhere that is very clearly underground. The grass grows green underfoot, and the air is cool. And if one listens closely the faint burble of water can be heard nearby. Still, after a moment or three, even Zagreus seems to catch on to the change around him.]

Wait, isn't this...

[His voice trails off turning a corner leads to what is clearly an arena; complete with (somewhat ghostly) audience, though Zagreus' attention is focused on the pair standing in the middle of the arena. A man in golden armor and a frankly ridiculous golden mask standing on an armored chariot (also gold, with a pair of... miniguns? attached) and a minotaur, also armored in gold.]

...Of course.

[He does not sound particularly thrilled by this turn of events.]

{b: Erebus}

[Or perhaps the change comes suddenly - one moment the labyrinth is a labyrinth, and the next it becomes a small platform, standing in the middle of what looks to be a river of blood. Though of more immediate concern might be the tall, almost-skeletal looking figure standing in the middle of the platform, with what appears to be an oar in hand.]

Oh, uh. Hi, Charon.

[Charon does not speak, per se. But there's the sense from his groans that he's not entirely pleased.]

{Town; after the Labyrinth}

[Once he gets over his surprise over being on the surface - or rather being out on the surface for anything longer than a brief period of time - Zagreus wastes no time in at least trying to help. Even if that turns out to be most just offering a hand where he can - he certainly can't offer any sort of healing, and so the most of what he can do is anything that requires an entirely average pair of hands. Help making things, or carrying things from one place to another. But no matter what he's actually doing, neither can he keep from being curious and sooner or later the questions start to come out.]

I don't suppose all that, with the labyrinth and everything, is normal here, is it?

BROTHER!!! Elysium

[somoteitbe]

[ She'd long heard of the glory of Elysium where the most benevolent of Shades resided. Her pathway down didn't go through this particular area of the Underworld, but it's nigh unmistakable once a previously walled pathway opens and she steps through. Gilded, a cheering audience, and- ]

Zagreus? [ This is the last place she expected to see him. It is a dream, yes, though not one of Hypnos' or her design. So how...?

It doesn't occur to her that he might not know who she is. Yet? Time is a strange, cruel thing. Which is why he needs to die, but that might be a conversation saved for another time. ]