ioduanlogs | [EVENT] RIPPLES ON THE WATER

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[EVENT] RIPPLES ON THE WATER

Characters: All
Date: September 15-30
Location: Aifaran and surrounding areas
Situation: The barrier is displaying increasingly strange behavior.
Warnings/Rating: In individual threads - please remember to warn!

The barrier that surrounds the archipelago is designed to keep the chaos of planes at bay, to safeguard the last great bastion of life in Konryu. The magic that created and sustains the barrier is immense - but not infallible. And a question that few have dared to ask in anything but a hushed whisper now descends upon the city: what if something stronger crawls out of the abyssal dark?

SHIMMER AND SHAKE

All month, the barrier has been markedly more visible than usual with swirls of rainbow color shifting across its surface, giving it the appearance of a giant soap bubble. This happens from time to time, and initially is of no great concern. Researchers prudently keep a close eye on it, recording the barrier's behavior in detail, and everyone carries on.

The first ripple appears at sunset on the 15th, warping the fading colors of the sky and spreading up and across the horizon until it vanishes. There is no outright panic in response - Aifaran is accustomed to strange events - but tension and uncertainty settle in quickly.

The Aisling Tower releases a statement in cooperation with the Ioduan Academy assuring the city that there is no indication that the barrier has weakened appreciably, nor any immediate danger. The best minds the archipelago have to offer are studying this event and advise citizens to avoid speculating about the cause until they know more. Apprehension diminishes some, helped in part by the coordinated efforts of the Tower, the Academy and the Sentry providing a unified front of calm and reassurance. Over the next few days, more ripples interrupt the cloudless skies, and no one can quite tell if the phenomenon is a physical disturbance or if the play of light and shadow merely makes it seem that way. The epicenter of each wave moves erratically, but it doesn't take the keenest of observers to notice they are marching slowly towards Aifaran.

A NIGHTMARE LOOMS

At midday on the 19th, a nightmarish figure of legend becomes visible on the barrier and sends panic through the city. Although never confirmed to be real, nearly everyone recognizes the writhing mass of darkness atop too many spindly legs: the Night Fisher. It towers high enough to be seen for miles outside the city. For half a minute, Aifaran and the surrounding lands are cast in eerie, shifting shadow as the abomination spreads tendrils questing over the barrier. Something beyond the edge of hearing sends a cold shiver down one's spine despite the warm afternoon.

And just as quickly as it arrived, the image disappears and sunlight returns to streets that are hastily emptied. City hall and the Aisling Tower are hounded for answers, while temples are packed by terrified followers seeking guidance and comfort. Hours go by and the skies remain clear. Cautiously, fearfully, people return to their homes.

The following day, researchers report that a swath of coral reef that begins off Shuyul Bay (which Aifaran overlooks) and extends beyond the barrier suddenly and mysteriously died off. Calls for skilled volunteers to help investigate are issued.

WAKING DREAMS

Another strange phenomenon that comes after the Night Fisher's first appearance is what the experts at the Aisling Tower are calling the Dreaming Sickness. Something in the Dreamfolk, and the native inhabitants of Aifaran who are sensitive to the Dreaming will find that they initially have trouble distinguishing dreams from reality. They may feel constantly fatigued and disoriented - with chronic migraines being a staple of the symptoms. As things progress, they will find they can lucid dream, and their dreams may even manifest in reality.

For example, if they were having a nightmare about a giant boot with teeth chasing them? It may just appear down the hall. Having a dream about soaring through the air? Anyone around them may also sprout wings. Fortunately for others, these visions don't manifest much further than a radius of about 30 feet, only last a few minutes, and the harm they can do is negligible at best. Experts at the Tower are unable to find an immediate solution to this problem, though they remind the public that these things tend to resolve themselves after a little while.

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OOC Notes: The Dreaming Sickness is an opt-in event if you do not wish your character to be affected. This log covers the latter half of September and you may post starters dated anywhere in that time period. Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Valdis didn't even consider how her facade had broken so completely, or if she still dreamed. Feeling half here and half somewhere else, she broke eye contact, shaking her head, trying to re-associate and find some sort of center. His reassurance should have been empty, she knew that none of them had any control over who stayed and who left, but it did help the world stop twisting so much. She took a shaky, but deep breath, blinking away tears.

"Thank you."

She glanced at the knife laying harmlessly in the sand. It wouldn't have done much lasting damage, wouldn't have affected anything in the long run, but it may have caused a problem for whoever stumbled upon the scene later. Valdis almost laughed at the morbidity of that thought, but it seemed highly inappropriate considering what had happened.

"I feel crazy," she sounded calmer now. Her arms stung as she still strangled her own magic to prevent it from rising.

Miles laughed a little, because it was all so absurd. "You're not the only one." Then the smell of blood properly hit him, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. The static in his head spiked.

He shook his head and glanced down at her arms. "Jeez, Valdis, what, did you get in a fight with a gyroshei or something? You're all scratched up." His tone was light, but he knew that wasn't the case. Those were nail marks. "You'd think getting all bloody would enhance death magic, right?"

"I was trying to get the chains off," she replied quietly, though now she knew there had never been chains. And now she did laugh. The sound held no joy, but it was better than crying. Nothing had been real, the archdemon, the fire, the magic going haywire...all in her head.

She started to wipe the blood off, hissing in pain as her hands irritated the gashes. "Blood has nothing to do with my kind of death magic," she laughed harshly, "We kill without a trace."

Miles opted not to say that he killed by exploding people from the inside out at the cellular level. Not really the time. "Chains, huh? I don't blame you." He felt a phantom of Trager's restraints on his wrists, and mentally shook it off. He'd have clawed himself bloodier than he'd already been to get free, if the second one hadn't popped.

"No, don't wipe it, you're just gonna get it everywhere...you're gonna wreak havoc on my wardrobe, y'know that?" he said, and shucked his shirt off. "Here. Hold still, I'll push on it to stem the bleeding for now. You moving is just gonna make it bleed more. Pinky promise this isn't an excuse to show off my abs." He grinned.

He may not blame her for clawing herself to get away from chains, but she certainly blamed herself for getting so caught up in panic that she couldn't tell truth from the lie. She'd shown too much weakness in that moment, she was still showing weakness. Valdis knew one couldn't be strong all the time, but she hated feeling afraid and she didn't even know why the fear lingered. Amos wasn't here.

The archdemon didn't play games the same way Bobby did. He wouldn't use others to get what he wanted, so friends were the one advantage she had. They were a strength, not a weakness. Valdis took a breath. It was fear of what faced her upon her return to her world, a world where she had no friends, that plagued her. She forced a smile at his joke

"They are nice abs." She replied, eyeing the scar on his chest. All these people had physical marks to show their suffering. Scars that somehow made it more legitimate, or at least more easily visible and worthy of sympathy. "That scar...where did it come from?"

"Thank you," he said, before the smile on his face went brittle. Hiding under a hospital bed, trying to calm his ragged breathing, and then--

'Somebody has to win and somebody has to lose here, I don't make the rules!'

Trager's freaky Variant strength, dragging him out by his arm, then stabbing that goddamned pair of shears through him - not quite his shoulder, not quite a debilitating wound - before he can wrest himself away with a cry and run towards the elevator.

"The same guy who made it so I can only count to eight and a half on my fingers," Miles said, a little too smoothly. "But, you know. 'You should see the other guy', and all that."

How To Make Trager Juice. Step 1: Squeeze.

"Let's take a look," he said, lifting his balled-up shirt off of the scratches. "There. They look better now." He took her arm to look a little closer, and then--

--there was a brief glow from his hands, and the wounds sealed up.

He almost dropped her arm in shock; he did drop the shirt. "Hey, uh, you did that, right? You did the healy thing?"

Her attempt at a joke seemed to have fallen flat, because his face fell at her question, destroying the mood she had been hoping to preserve. Miles might have been able to answer smoothly, but the jolt in his emotional state told her she'd stepped on something delicate. Valdis didn't press, not that he gave her the chance because he redirected the topic of conversation to her injuries.

Valdis hissed softly when foreign magic touched on her senses, closing the slashes as easily as her own magic might have. Miles seemed shocked, dropping his shirt and recoiling. It was enough to push what remained of her fear into the background. She released her death grip on her magic, letting it flow back around the slashes on her other arm. There was no light to accompany the healing, no strange magic.

"No," she replied, sounding confused, "I think that was you."

Miles shook his head, bewildered. "No, not me, I don't do the magic thing. I might be the least magical person here, and--oh, goddamnit." He reached up to rub his Talent mark on his left shoulder. "So that's what that is, huh? Took me long enough." Not like he'd exactly been trying. He'd been a little busy, and besides, he hadn't wanted to have something else added to his avalanche of abilities, all of which he hated.

Okay, the 'coming back to life' one was pretty useful.

"So...now I can heal people. Fan-tastic." He sighed. "Well...at least it's not something bad, right? How's your arm?"

Valdis arched a brow, but chose to examine her arm instead of commenting right away on his skepticism. The wounds had healed to the same level on both arms. His talent was as good as her own ability, though his used a far less precious resource. Miles didn't sound pleased though.

"Healing is better than destroying," she murmured, "And it feels fine now, thank you." She reached over to grab the knife out of the sand.

"I mean, you're not wrong," he said, still looking a little sour. "It's just another log on the fire of things-I-wish-I-didn't-have. Not everyone's excited about magic." He would have been, back before the whole Walrider thing. He just wanted to be normal again, though. No magic, no Walrider. Just Miles, whoever that had been.

"You're not gonna mess with that thing again, are you?"

Creation wasn't always better than destruction, but it generally held more light than darkness. Though, if what Amos had done could be considered 'creation' was up for argument. She picked up the knife and returned it to her belt.

"I'm always messing with weapons," she replied, "This isn't even the only dagger I have on me."

She didn't need to go around armed, but a weapon could be a deterrent, even if she had no intention of using it. She could disarm and neutralize without lethality if she desired.

"But no," she admitted, "I'm not going to stab myself. It would be pointless considering I'm not currently a danger to anyone."

It was only the belief that she was putting the city in danger that had triggered the desire anyway. She was lucky Miles had been nearby.

"Is the number of knives you have on you greater or less than five?" he said, deadpan.

"Good. Stabbing yourself would be messy, and I don't know how well this...thing...works." Miles wiggled his fingers, or what was left of them. "So you're not gonna go all Super Saiyan again, yeah?"

Valdis sighed, "I have the one on my belt, one in my left boot and a small one disguised as the charm on my necklace. So less than five."

Her brow furrowed with confusion, "I can self heal, I just...sometimes when my magic is out of control, I can draw it back by...doing that."

Solemn for any conversation.

"I'm afraid I don't know what 'Super Saiyan' means."

"Sure is a shitty way of bringing yourself back to yourself," Miles said, but then again, he really couldn't talk. No matter what he did with the Walrider, it'd end up causing him pain at the end. Stupid nanites.

"Uh. It's from an anime. Forget it." Miles waved his hand, trying to dismiss the topic.

"With magic as potentially devastating as mine," she replied slowly, "It's...necessary."

But it had been nothing more than a waking nightmare, an illusion brought on by the chaos of the planes.

"I should have seen through the illusion," Valdis added bitterly, "I thought I had better control than this."

"It still sounds shitty," Miles said. "Just because something's necessary doesn't mean that it doesn't suck." Killing Billy had been necessary. And in his moral center, it had sucked. Fuck it all. Break it all. He has to die.

Self-preservation outweighed high-handed morality every time. Not that he felt good about it.

"And hey, we all make mistakes. You can't just beat yourself up about something that didn't actually happen. No harm, no foul, right?"

"It's not ideal," she replied softly,"But I'm functionally immortal, it wouldn't have lasted."

Not that it had made it better for anyone else. She had lives to spare, yet her friends didn't seem to understand that.

"I suppose I'm just lucky you were here."

"Hey, so am I, and I've died before, so I can counter the 'not lasting' argument with 'it's really shitty so I try to avoid it if possible'," Miles said dryly. "So I'm on the same page as you, and I can say for a fact that I hate it and I wouldn't want to wish it on someone else, even if they're immortal."

He shook his head. "Yeah, even if you were gonna come back...well, like I said. Dying sucks."

"I've been immortal a bit longer than you, Mr. Upshur," Valdis pointed out. "By a few thousand years actually."

It was the same argument each time. Didn't anyone have a better one?

"I do appreciate your concern for my life, but it's unnecessary."

She stood up, ready to leave this particular spot behind for awhile.

"Doesn't mean I can't point out the obvious," he said bluntly. "Just cause you can doesn't mean you should. I've been told that enough times, so it's nice to finally be on the other end."

He shook his head. Clearly she wasn't going to be swayed, and that was just an argument they were only going to butt heads over. Normally he liked that, but it was probably a little much to throw on someone who had just had horrible hallucinations.

"Want to get out of here? I'm getting a little chilly."

Valdis gritted her teeth, not in the mood to argue with someone who obviously didn't understand. No one would ever understand. Valdis slowly released her death grip on her magic, letting it flow as normal.

"I suppose putting your shirt back on wouldn't help much," she said dryly. The thing had blood on it now, "I mean, unless you want to walk through the city with blood all over you."

Though considering what he seemed to have been though, she supposed it wouldn't be the first time.

Even if Miles did understand her angle, he'd argue with her anyway. He was the kind of guy who just latched onto things and never let go. Which...had kind of gotten him into his Murkoff situation to begin with.

"Hey, I've been all bloodied up before...but yeah, probably not the best of ideas. Oh well. I guess Aifaran's going to see me being comfortable with my body." Why does he always lose his shirt around Valdis?!

"Are you not comfortable with your body?" she asked offhand, heading toward the water.

She felt the urge to wash off what she had seen, but she doubted that the vision of Amos holding her heart in his hand would leave as easily as the blood. She stopped at the waters edge, gazing at the barrier almost blankly.

"Of course I am. Doing what I do is kind of a workout in and of itself, and you have to have core strength at least for getting out of some sticky situations." Core strength and arm strength, given the amount of climbing into vents and hanging from ledges back in Mount Massive.

When he noticed that she'd stopped to look at the barrier, he turned to look, too. "Kinda pretty, isn't it? If it's gonna protect us, at least it's not an iron dome. That'd set off my claustrophobia something fierce."

Valdis didn't know why a reporter would have abs like his, but she wasn't about to question it. Investigative reporters on her world didn't look like him, or at least not any she'd met. Not that it mattered, since it was the soul that held the true nature of any individual.

"It is, but not in a good way," she replied, "But, yes, it could be worse. I also dislike cages. I was always on the move at home, never stayed in one place for long. The one time I did, my enemy caught up with me."

[EVENT] RIPPLES ON THE WATER

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the newseum means a lot to me okay

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