2017-10-02: Locked
- Log: Locked
- Cast: Riesenlied, Noeline, Id
- Where: Riesenlied's mind
- Date: 2nd October 2017
- Summary: Riesenlied, on a promise to Id, ventures with him and Noeline into her own subconscious using her empathic powers...
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied did acquiesce to the request, no matter what may come of it... perhaps she wouldn't have, in another state of mind, another state of being, but this is what she has chosen now.
She concentrates, and places her palms to either side of the Dragon's Tear -- in a flowing, shimmering ebb, the light begins to slowly engulf the room as her tattered dragon wings spread to either side of her. There's a quiet thrum--
--and that kind of tingling sensation of uncertainty when one has crossed the borders beyond physical and spiritual perception... not unlike an out of body experience--
--which is very rudely disrupted by the thrashing, billowing crash of an Arctican blizzard in full swing, quickly burying Riesenlied under inches of snow as she coughs. "I-- w-what?"
Well, mind over matter has its advantages...
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
As the light begins to suffuse the room around them, Noeline sits and waits in trepidation. Riesenlied's hand is in hers, but she doesn't expect to be able to do much more than that to assist - she doesn't share in Riese's spiritual powers, just piggybacks off the back of the Duras Drum Medium inside of her. Traditionally, that's how it's always been.
And yet... there's a pull that she can't describe, not a physical one but something else, and then in the white light there's a lurching sense of gravity--
--and then the white light resolves to snow, a whirling blizzard and all the sound and fury that it represents. "What--?" she blurts in astonishment, staring for a moment at the sheer scale of what she's witnessing - before the difference in temperature hits, and she suddenly winces and staggers, suddenly feeling the force of the raging snow. "This is-- this is Arctica," she mutters in realization.
Trying to shake the fuzz away, shee moves quickly to support Riese, and that's when she notices that she feels different. Gone is the Crimson Noble (Desert Version), and in its place a plain young demon with dark brown eyes and long black hair loose at her back; in place of her fanciful clothes is a simple Photosphere bodysuit.
... symbolism isn't lost on her, generally speaking, but part of her does consider this /not the time/.
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
Where'd Id go?r Earlier, outside The Projection Room
"You stay here." The blood splattered boy tells Fei. You can't survive in a place like that
The room spins around and another curtain lies beyond. The blood splattered boy walks through it.
Now, Your Room
The snow buries Riesenlied. It also buries a small boy with red hair, can't be more than eight years old. The boy pushes back out quickly and climbs his way up top. He looks at his hands which are, yes, covered in blood, but so is the rest of him. The blood splattered boy looks out over towards Riesenlied. He says, "Come on." He tells her. "We only just stepped inside your room. Too early to freak out." He is unforgiving though the blood splattered boy doesn't seem surprised by his transformation, or Noeline's for that matter. This isn't their room.
It's hard to see the boy's eyes. His hair has come undone and is messy and is continuously in his eyes. It stays that way, whether he smiles or frowns. He looks young but talks old.
"Wondered what happened to Arctica," The boy admits, frowning. "Well, your world, your lead." He nods to Riesenlied before looking to Noeline. "As for you. Be careful what you say."
GUEST PARTY MEMBER: ID
LVL: ?? HP: ????
WEAPON: DEMON FISTS ARMOR: FLIGHT SUIT ACCESSORY: BLOODY CRUCIFEX
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
There's no small amount of hesitation as Riesenlied -- not so much feels the snow physically, but seems to react to it... emotionally. The shiver is not so much of a body that's exposed to ardent, frigid coldness, but one remembering the sensation of what happened in /this/ exact blizzard.
"... they all died..." Riesenlied whispers weakly. When she emerges, she isn't the tribe-garbed leader of Wayside, and not even the commander of the Metal Demon forces... no, there's just--
--a small, young demon in rags, the kind draped by those that have been cast down to the depths of the Photosphere, to the Gutter. Her outfit is haphazard and tossed together with whatever she can find; her hair is stricken and stiff, the horns protruding from her head as they ever have. Parts of her body rather evidently show her deformities, skin flaking away to show metal and impairment.
"They all died because of me... here." She bites her lip. "... I was foolish... I made big claims about being able to-- lead them to success, yet..."
She chuckles faintly, bitterly. "A false saint..." She shakes her head, and holds onto Noeline's hand slowly, and onto the young boy's hand too. "This way."
The march seems like it takes forever, yet... eventually, the scene cascades away from the punishing blizzard to... a strangely calm, peaceful village -- adorned with yurts and other tent-like buildings, with effigies and other wooden sculptures with a dedication to a particular ... Guardian. Id pages: quick question, was riesen around when Id hit the place in 493 pc? Id pages: (i don't remember exactly why she was chasing after Id to start with) You paged Id with 'she chased after him because of Garlyle yeah' You paged Id with 'she wasn't directly injured or anything but was in the vicinity' Id pages: yeah it was a few years before the actual attack on arctica which is why I ask!
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Noeline lets out a deeply uncertain breath as she hauls Riesenlied up; as attentive as she's being, her head immediately flicks in the direction of the odd little boy as he emerges, and it doesn't exactly take a genius to pick out exactly who it might be. The fact that Id chooses(?) to manifest as a young boy in this mentalscape is not lost on Noeline, even if she has not the faintest idea what it might actually mean.
"... point taken," she does at least mutter to herself, the telltale signs of her mind working already showing on her face - where they are, how they might get out of this location, what they might actually find here. Riesenlied's words do at least give her a much better idea of the timeframe involved... and what might be waiting for them ahead.
Of course, that doesn't stop her instincts, and when Riesenlied begins to talk about the way in which she apparently doomed the Fereshte tribe, Noeline's mouth opens to protest - before she catches herself, her brow furrowing hard in worry.
If she's got to be careful what she says, then she'll do her best to observe, instead - her eyes are wide open as they pick their way into the village, watching and taking in every little sight that she can in hopes of it providing a later clue. "... Odoryuk," she mutters under her breath at the sight of some of the statues.
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
"Arctica," Id begins. "It was a kingdom that lasted for hundreds of years, it survived the Day of Collapse, it survived me, but it couldn't survive for the vengeance of the Metal Demons in the end. The question remains whether the Metal Demons will survive the vengeance of Arctica. Heh. Nations destroying nations for such empty reasons." Suddenly his lips twist into a smile. "You were there when the powers that be decided they wanted Arctica's treasures. Were you playing spy even then? Did you see an opportunity to avenge your fallen comrades and whisper sweet advice into Siegfried's ears?" He considers this. "I suppose that would earn you a great deal of praise from him, handing the keys to the destruction of one of his greatest enemies."
Id would prefer to be in his adult state but Noeline doesn't need to know this. He wonders if this is how Fei feels when he just runs around in the mindscape like a total tool.
He looks around the village, shaking off frost (if it lingers) off his clothes. He looks alongside the tents, the effigies, the sculptures. "...A Baskar Village?" He wonders. He finds it kind of hilarious that Odoryuk is a Guardian here, considering how much of Riesenlied is preoccupied with death right now.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied quietly reminisces, since they are on Arctican backyard, even if this was... so long ago. The very air feels different, the ground, the state of the mountains in the distance... it's ever so imperceptible for those not in the know, but for those who have lived for centuries...
... this is definitely not the Arctica of today, or even of the time of the Demon of Elru.
"A Baskar village," Riesenlied confirms. "The village of the Fereshte... the tribe that took me in. ..."
She looks reluctant and weary, and though the village looks comfortable and inviting, there's nobody around... no one, save for the spectres of tribesfolk that wander on past her, stepping through her form here and there. Lingering. Clinging onto her, just out of sight, yet everpresent... vestigial.
She sighs -- and stares, towards a particular yurt in the back. "And here, in this village..."
She hesitates, and the image begins to flicker. Doubt and anxiety start to cloud the vision, the scene, causing everything to become -- difficult, blurry. Defensive mechanisms, almost too literally.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"... I was there," Noeline admits quietly, glancing down at the snow around her. "It wasn't that I saw a way to avenge my comrades - quite honestly, I thought it was the only way to survive at the time," mutters the spy; her voice is softer, like this, missing some of the abrasive and purposefully upbeat style she's taken on. "I couldn't bring myself to join in the attack itself. I suppose I hoped that Arctica might manage to hold out."
She sighs, looking much smaller than she normally does. "It was my home."
She watches the village regardless, picking out what she can of its style and culture; she's heard some of the story before, but perhaps not all of it quite so-- vividly. When the world rocks around them and threatens to distort, she bites at her lip - then gently places her arm back around Riesenlied in support, offering her a shoulder to lean against. "... we're here," she mutters, still wary of breaking the bubble of perception.
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
So that's why 'Nazgul', Id thinks. Well, you get used to destroying your hometown after the first few times.
"Survival. It's overrated." Id says. That kind of attitude probably doesn't hurt when it comes to his willingness to kill many people in cold blood. If survival isn't a positive trait for him, how can he see it in others?
Id is hesitant to try forcing himself through it. Forceful connections into someone's psyche resulted in corpses all other times, Riesenlied is a strange exception but he doesn't want to push that luck. He reaches out to touch it, briefly, but stops himself. Making Contact is a bad idea.
"Nobody's judging here." Id says simply enough. "This is essentially a procedure." He glances over to Noeline. Granted, it occurs to him that maybe his earlier words sassing over her role in Arctica's fall is not really helping here, so he admits, "Well, I mean, I'm an asshole oviously but it's not like I actually think you're shit for doing what you have to, so--" He shrugs. "--Don't worry about it." He glances towards Noeline.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
There's a trembling little sigh as Riesenlied feels Noeline's hand upon her shoulder, and the shaking begins to stop. Still, the mechanisms aren't content to stop there -- the building at the back starts to... it doesn't warp, but it seems to emanate a kind of displeasure... a kind of ominousness.
There's negativity there. Unresolved, unfinished business.
"The tribe took me in. They clothed me, nursed me to health... gave me a name." A pause. "Nazgul," she whispers. "It wasn't until later that I was given the name Riesenlied..."
She hesitates. "A demon with a Baskar name. What was I supposed to think of myself? I had killed those that foolishly followed me... yet..."
A pause, and a quiet shimmer emanates before them. A flash, and a young girl -- no older than Riesenlied herself is -- stands before them.
It's a familiar girl, albeit not broken and dead.
"... I--" she pauses. "She... accepted me. ... she..."
The girl steps closer to them, one pace at a time... and yet, after a moment, there is a flicker as she once more steps through Riesenlied, dissolving as an apparition would. "... she was the chieftain's daughter."
A hesitation. "... the village's priestess of Odoryuk."
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Slowly, Noeline begins to have a creeping sort of suspicion in the back of her mind - a crawling, uncertain, terrifying sense-- that maybe she kind of likes the Demon of Elru? As an abrasive sort of jerk she can snipe back and forth with?
God, their world is weird nowadays.
At least she takes Id's advice with a curt nod and a brief chuckle, accepting both the compliment and the advice as she glances back at the child next to them. "... I suppose that means a lot, coming from you," she comments, then looks back to the village with a light frown. "... it is just an image, then? A memory... no, I suppose it's something a little more than that," she mutters--
--but the village warps around them again, silencing her as the girl steps towards them both - and through Riese, leaving the woman as if she's seen a ghost. (She pretty much has.)
When the other demon calls her a priestess, Noeline's response is just to let out a slow and somewhat uncertain breath, still not exactly clear what boundaries she does or doesn't have in this space, or what there is to be said. To call her 'out of her element' would be entirely correct.
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
"Nazrin." Id says as he sees the apparition. The situation is knitting together in his mind. It's situations like this that make him just want to cut the rope rather than try to make it dance, but cutting the rope in Elru just gave them power in the end. Was the fancy title worth it? ...They justify it all just like he does.
"They used the Tainted carelessly. ... No, not exactly. Metal Demon culture is all about proving yourself. Running into a hopeless situation with the intent to win anyway. To a Metal Demon that's the highest honor. For a Tainted, even moreso." Id murmurs to himself, cupping his chin. It seems in spite of his age, there's still gaps within his knowledge. "They had to have known what you were. They took a gamble on you. They knew the risks." He looks towards Noeline. "Well, I'm making the same gamble." She tells her.
"Sure I mean," Id tells Noeline. "If everyone's shit, there's really no point in thinking any particular person in shit. Like who measures that?" This is his attempt to saying Noeline that he doesn't think poorly of her either. "That wasn't Nasrin." He says. "Or, well, I mean, maybe it IS Nasrin, I don't know if that's her actual name or not--" Id shrugs. "--But it's not the Nasrin we're looking for. The Nasrin we're looking for isn't a ghost. It's you."
What else is there to say?
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied's expression is one of a rattled, horrified person as she turns back towards the home. There's a quiet, choked kind of expression as she begins to falter -- not physically, but... mentally, emotionally. It's rather taxing to be in this mindspace, inexperienced as she is, as emotionally trying as the visions she's seeing are.
"... I..." she looks towards what they're speaking of. "Proving myself... was I... was that all I wished to do? I was no different-- and that's why everyone..."
She's getting distracted. No, she's trying to distract herself. She winces and shivers further, as the vision starts to sharply and uncomfortably distort. "Nasrin..."
The whisper of the mere name continues to shake her, and she turns towards the door of the yurt again.
And when she does, it's highly sealed, highly gated -- from the edges of their vision, massive chains erupt out of the ground, emerge down from the skies, massive padlocks encrusting themselves around the door, to bar entry.
The resentment and anxiety yet grows in the air, the village fraying to what it is; the vision of comfort and peace has all but shattered to frozen remnants. Now, it looks like the present day. Desolate, ruined. The tents, save that one, are all but scattered, the effigies and idols of worship to Odoryuk scattered.
"... here, I-- what I did to her..."
She cups her mouth, sounding choked as blood starts to seep from the bottom edge of the door. "No-- no! NO!"
She's panicking, and the vision begins to rattle in turn. Everything's starting to crumble. This may be the limit of what she can cope with, what she can channel, the way she is right now.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
For a moment, Noeline actually forces herself to stop - to listen to Id's words, and apply them to the odd landscape they find themselves in. If the Nasrin they're looking for isn't the real, factual Nasrin of the past, does Id mean that it's Riesenlied's perception of her, based upon those memories? It would certainly make sense, for all that Noeline can make out the rules of this kind of thing - she's dimly aware that such things can matter, and acutely aware of how much Riesenlied might blame herself for the events that befell the Fereshte tribe.
And then the spell breaks, or rather fractures and splits around them. Noeline's stomach lurches - she doesn't need to be organic to have that happen - and her footing suddenly feels extremely thin on the ground. "--Riese!" she calls, her hand tightening around the other demon's, structural integrity of the dream they're in be damned. "Hold on!" Cyre H. Lorentz has left. ==== <O-Metal Demons> Yarobeleedt says, "OK, first draft of thing is almost done, I'll send to box tomorrow after a few touch-ups."
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
God damn it. God damn it! This is really far outside his role here. Then the Room starts losing cohesion, even more so. Not now, not now! It's literally right inside there! Id grits his teeth. That's it, he thinks. He's going to have to punch through himself and force the issue.
He reaches out for the door--but he can't. He can't do this, he realizes. He can't do that for himself. He never could. The only person throughout all of time who was able to pull his head out of his own ass was--
--Elly. That girl. That girl he hardly ever gets to see because of the coward. What nice things did she say? He can't remember. He didn't want to exist. Why does he have to be so fucked up when it actually matters?!
"Noeline!" He shouts. "If we reject her now, she'll only get stronger, her condition will only get worse!" He looks towards her. "I can't do this! It has to be you!" This is the first time Noeline has heard desperation in Id's voice. "You have to support her, calm her down, give her the strength she doesn't have!"
He tries to hold up the room through his own will but he can't force it. It's not his room. Pushing the will of the Contact won't help. It's never helped before.
Why would it help now?
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
"I--I can't, I can't... I can't..." Riesenlied is hyperventilating, even as Noeline squeezes around her, holds her hand, as they look like they're about to fall through the floor that is no longer there and like they're about to be swallowed into eternity. "I don't have the right... I don't have the..."
She hears Id shouting, but she looks incoherent. She looks at Noeline. The chains rattle like they're about to break, everything's starting to fray and collapse at any moment...
... and in that moment of chaos, at the verge of cataclysm, a truth does come out:
"... I don't want you to see this..."
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Gritting her teeth, Noeline lunges forwards; the act is instinctive, and she doesn't exactly need Id's say-so to trust in it as being the right course of action at this exact moment in time. Before she's really aware of what she's doing, she's swung around to interspose herself between Riesenlied and the foreboding building, cutting off the other woman's view of the source of her panic; her hands are at each of Riesenlied's cheeks, both to establish a physical connection and to ensure that she can't break away, focusing her partner's attention on her.
"Riese. Riese! It's alright. It's alright," she repeats, quiet and fervent. It takes an effort to keep her voice steady, and yet she manages it - closing her eyes helps, because the sensation of the floor lurching beneath them is more mental than it is physical, and it's so much easier to pretend it doesn't exist this way. "Close your eyes - breathe deeply. We're in Wayside, remember? Wayside. Not here. This is a memory - and one you don't have to show me, if you don't want to. It's alright," she repeats.
The words are a litany, delivered quickly and quietly, almost a whisper through the din around them; as she speaks, she gently lifts her hands to cradle the other woman's head against her, enveloping her in an embrace. "Do you feel me? Breathe with me," she prompts again, her fingers travelling through Riese's blonde hair in what she hopes is a soothing manner.
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
This is feeling a little too close to home quite honestly. Id remembers Riesenlied's promise. She would try to understand. This might seem different, unrelated, but to Id it is the same. He is floating now, as the ground becomes more and more ephemeral. He can't reach for Riesenlied's heart in the way that Noeline can. He can't soothe her, not in the way she needs. It's beyond his nature. It's difficult enough to do this, but it's for Nasrin in the end. If it is anywhere the same, it's for her in the end.
"You promised," Id says, not unlike a child now.
And that's all he can do or say.
Riesenlied hears. No matter what she may do, no matter what she may try to do to push it out, to block it out, she hears.
And she hears herself, more than anyone, more than what Noeline says, what Id says.
She promised.
The demon's eyes are on Noeline's as she whispers, whimperingly, "... I didn't want you to... see this...." as she clutches her hand tighter, and she stares--
--and the lock cracks and shatters.
A cold, broken room within the tent, darkened from where the last remnants of the wick of the candle have long burnt out. No warmth is left here.
A peal of thunder.
The girl's form is collapsed on the floor, red blood staining the pattern of the Fereshte where she's fallen upon it.
Lightning flashes in the distance.
Nazgul stands in simple tribal garments, out of breath. Her eyes are wide with shock, her throat burning, her eyes dry.
An unruly, painful howl echoes in the distance.
She stares at the ceremonial athame clutched at her hand, knuckles whitened with her fear. It is slicked and fresh-coated with blood.
Her smile.
... and before anything else, they're suddenly back in the real world. The last, ephemeral vestiges of the empathic sensation have evaporated extremely suddenly, the feeling disorienting as much as it is shocking.
Riesenlied's managed to fall into Noeline's arms since they last positioned themselves, rather plainly out cold, exhausted from the ordeal of the entire process.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied hears. No matter what she may do, no matter what she may try to do to push it out, to block it out, she hears.
And she hears herself, more than anyone, more than what Noeline says, what Id says.
She promised.
The demon's eyes are on Noeline's as she whispers, whimperingly, "... I didn't want you to... see this...." as she clutches her hand tighter, and she stares--
--and the lock cracks and shatters.
A cold, broken room within the tent, darkened from where the last remnants of the wick of the candle have long burnt out. No warmth is left here.
A peal of thunder.
The girl's form is collapsed on the floor, red blood staining the pattern of the Fereshte where she's fallen upon it.
Lightning flashes in the distance.
Nazgul stands in simple tribal garments, out of breath. Her eyes are wide with shock, her throat burning, her eyes dry.
An unruly, painful howl echoes in the distance.
She stares at the ceremonial athame clutched at her hand, knuckles whitened with her fear. It is slicked and fresh-coated with blood.
Her smile.
... and before anything else, they're suddenly back in the real world. The last, ephemeral vestiges of the empathic sensation have evaporated extremely suddenly, the feeling disorienting as much as it is shocking.
Riesenlied's managed to fall into Noeline's arms since they last positioned themselves, rather plainly out cold, exhausted from the ordeal of the entire process.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
The noise that Noeline makes is a confused, surprised and extremely unladylike 'hwugh--' of sheer instinct, the images around the trio breaking apart all of a sudden as the real world snaps back into place. Immediately, her arms tighten around Riesenlied's form, first to prevent her falling and then to gather the other woman close to her - and her face hardens into a frown as she looks down at Riesenlied collapsed across her lap.
It isn't a disapproving frown, at least, nor an ashamed one, nor even an angry one - it's the look of someone trying to work out a puzzle, knowing full well that the answer might be critically important for the future. At the very least, her faith in Riesenlied is holding strong - and when combined with Id's words, it's enough to make her realize that what she just saw may not be an absolute truth, so much as Riese's perception - and projection - of her fears.
After a moment to reorient herself, and ensure the room isn't spinning around her, she slowly looks up to where Id was sitting. She's not entirely sure he's even going to be there anymore.
<Pose Tracker> Id has posed.
Id's surprised as anyone when the lock breaks. That can even happen? Of course it can. The coward could do it any time. He chooses not to. Not because he doesn't want some sweetheart to see it, but because he himself doesn't want to see it. But now is not the time for self-loathing.
I just felt this rush of blood in me and I couldn't help myself! Couldn't help myself ... or help others.
Even if the pieces change, they're more alike than Id expected. He can't expect help from the coward, but the fake...that's a new conciousness. It's not impossible. He remembers the sheep. The coward wouldn't have done that. The fake did. And the fake has access to tools he doesn't have. It will just require...finesse. What kind of finesse escapes him, but he can be patient. What's a few more years of torture compared to centuries of it?
Nazgul is smiling. Is that actually her attitude, or is it temporary madness, or is it something like him? He can't say just from this glimpse, but--
--even though they are thrown back out shortly after, he can't hide from the truth. She didn't lie. She made the push.
He's there as Noeline looks over but silent, looking almost like a corpse with that strange visage of his, but eventually he turns his head. He looks exhausted, if clearly trying to be stubborn about it.
"She didn't lie." He mulls to himself before he stands himself up. "Even though she didn't want to."
He is tone is level and thoughtful.
"...It's not the end, but it should help, though I'm not much more experienced than you are. Thank you." He pauses and adds, "When she wakes up--When she wakes up, thank her for keeping her word for me. I'll keep mine. It's only fair."
Seems like Wayside is safe from Id. He stands up, slowly, not because of any agony but because the will to move is hard to find. "That room," He says. "i live in a room like that. I can't pull back the curtain. I don't want the one calling herself Nasrin to be in that position." It's not what they want in the end.
He then starts walking away. He doesn't even knock over a teacup.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
The twintailed demon looks up at Id, her face drawn; she's still not sure exactly what has just transpired, or what exactly the Demon of Elru's words mean as he departs - but she's the sort to pay attention and respect to them, and turn them over in her head later, and perhaps draw her own conclusions once she understands more of what's going on. "I'll watch over her. I'll tell her," she promises quietly.
And perhaps it's the strangest thing to say to the man who destroyed Old Petra, but... these are strange times, and she finds herself chuckling ruefully. "... I should be thanking /you/, for the push she needed." For a moment, she wonders if she should say what she says next, but barrels forwards into it anyway. "... and-- well--... I will hope you can find a way out of it, in time."