( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[transmit]

WHO: Elysium & friends(?)
WHAT: This is now just a catch-all for everything
WHERE: Everywhere
WHEN: 2024
WARNINGS: Blanket warning for possible explorations of dark themes in general, please tread at your own risk. I will, however, endeavour to include specifics in headers if applicable.

Comments

→ city of dreams.

[transmit]

i. everything is (not) fine,

[ 'Going back now means taking a massive risk. Elysium can't help but ask himself: Is he really that attached to the town? Hard to say. Probably not so much that he should risk his life for it. He's only been there a few months. But he also understands that he can't just stand by and watch, can't just wait for the storm to pass. And there's no point in thinking about what he can't do. He needs to focus on what he can do.'

There is black, and then there is shaking.

Literal shaking, as the ground beneath quakes with angry roars. Dusk kicks up, there's a heaviness to the air, and there are distant screams of Catastrophe and to take shelter. They might be more concerning if it weren't for the pressing matter in the sudden splinter of a pillar right next to your character. As the roof above them begins to cave into itself, try as they will, their feet will remain paralysed where they are.

Their heartrate will spike. Their eyes will close. They will brace for impact——but then, there is that nothingness again, until the startling sensation of being yanked.

Next thing they know, they're pressed against Elysium, having narrowly been saved from being trapped under rubble. Despite the side of his arm bleeding profusely from the action, Elysium is smiling down. While the injury is worrying in of itself, there's something else about it that's deeply upsetting from the influence of Elysium's memories, though they won't be given time to contemplate it just yet. ]

Whew! That was a perfect rescue, wasn't it? A judge would've given that ten out of ten. What do you think?

[ Rather than answer that question, perhaps one might want to say—now's not the time, especially with the utter chaos going on in their backdrop. Welcome to the life of a humble shopkeeper, whose body they're now free to move. ]

ii. home is where the heart is,

[ "A city in gray, drab colors. Depressing. Boring. Is that all?"

"I really don't have much to say about that place. It was a simple and boring place to me, and that really is it for me. Home... huh? I wonder what it's like now. I wonder if it's still packed with buildings, and the wind is still so humid, with that salty scent to it? Are the streets there still empty, and everyone there's as quiet as they've always been?

Tell me, brother, do you think we'll ever have a chance to go back, having run away from that place? I don't think I want to go back.

But I can't help but think that, perhaps one day... I'll go back."

A series of vignettes plays from Elysium's memory: from the same gray, drab, city to the Inquisition, a formerly religious organisation that rules Iberia with an iron fist. There's a distinctly suffocating quality to these memories as they ebb and flow from one memory to the next, as characters are both made to bear witness to the persecution of Ægir, a race of marine humanoids, and the general paranoia that's suffused into the population from the resurgence of a cult in the Church of the Deep.

But go back Elysium does, and your character will suddenly find themselves thrust in the midst of a cluster of Seaborn, Elysium's back to them. ]

It's do-or-die. Find something, anything. [ There are rocks, a flowerpot, and an umbrella. The pickings are slim. At least, Elysium is armed with a sword… so it could be worse. ] You gotta weaponize.

[ This memory finds them in the body of Jordi, a caretaker of a local church. ]

ex-stage i & ii,

[ The follow-up option that can be bundled alongside either of the above or be taken separately, if you'd like to have his memories beamed into your character instead. Whether or not he's realised that your character's been made privy to them, he is absolutely and blatantly turning on his heel the moment he sees anyone he recognises.

a.) This will go on for a good week if he isn't chased down. b.) After that? He's back to business as usual. In theory. He might then be caught in one of the many hotel lobbies loitering around their amenities, looking uncharacteristically melancholic. The moment he senses someone approaching, he whips around to hold a bottle of water out, stiff smile in place. ]

… It's important to stay hydrated. [ Ah, geez. He regrets this already. He nudges it forward once, twice, and if it still isn't taken he'll bend down to slide it into their hand. ] Take it.

i

[bemist]

[ You know, this is kind of annoying.

Gebura has been in a few situations where she's been trapped in a different form, or something similar, though it's nothing quite like this. She's in some kind of area where the roof is caving in and, rather than do anything about it, a call to action that she knows she's capable of, she's more or less paralyzed.

And then suddenly she's pulled close against someone and it's Even Worse because there's been a strange kind of familiarity, an emotional recognition to whoever was dreaming this, the feeling of "I shouldn't do this, but I need to." Not something she can focus on right now, not when she recognizes the person who just saved... whoever she's supposed to be. And additionally recognizes there's some other implication to his arm being injured, but regardless--she braces a hand against his chest, leaning back to give him a very unimpressed stare.

Surely just like the NPC Shopkeeper would have done. Surely!! ]

Now's hardly the time to joke, is it?

[transmit]

[ The shopkeeper's expression mellows out from her panic, and that's all Elysium needs to see for his own smile to widen. In another universe, while the shopkeeper might've not leveled such an unimpressed stare, she would have a thing or two to say about his seemingly skewed priorities. Which is to say, it's completely in-line for a reaction he would expect, even if he's distantly thinking about how he's never seen make a face quite like that before.

Priorities! ]

You're right. For the selfless behaviour, I deserve more of an eleven. But come now. Seeing as you have your wits about you, help me round people up. … this sort type of Catastrophe will be on top of you before you know it.

[ Before she so much agrees, he's already offering her a salute before quickly turning on his heel. Then, as an over the shoulder yell: ]

We don't have much time!

[bemist]

[ Good(?) to know he's as energetic as ever, despite the roof coming down on them, but at the very least, it's better than someone who panics and huddles trembling in a corner. People like that are best hauled by the collar, planted somewhere else and told to stay put because she can usually tell at a glance who's going to be of use in an emergency and who's best moved out of the way.

She can be useful here, so she follows him. Simple enough. ]

Just how many people do we need to clear out? [ An entire village? ]

[transmit]

███. No man left behind. But about ██ of them should be out on business… so ███!

[ They're exact numbers, mind you. Not an approximate in the tens or hundreds, but the precise number of people the village should contain. He's being completely serious, eyes crinkling in sheer confidence. It's better if they split here, so he'll point in one direction and bound off in the other.

Whether she chooses to fully believe in his words or not, the scene cuts there. Gebura loses control of the body again, though not before hearing the last few exchanges of it—how he's a fool for coming back, but also how he self-proclaims that he's an expert at surviving in the wilderness and will see to it that everyone makes it out alive.

The next time colour bleeds from black, Gebura will find herself as a spectator this time, made privy to Elysium's own feelings. His arm burns for a reason that isn't exactly festering, and yet he continues to smile and calm people down, offering people words of comfort through it all. Although she's once again thrust in the midst of it, there are plenty of people around chattering; she'll be able to piece together the following information: Elysium had found them this underground shelter, they have supplies to last a few days, and that they're undeniably safe from the Catastrophe. But as origin stories often go, things aren't that easy. One particular vibration later, their way out gets blocked.

Time passes by quickly like this. The days go by and people become antsier. They take it out on Elysium: he was the one who'd lead them to the shelter, after all, and the transmission signals he sends out remain answerless. Whether they'd stayed up there or came down here, it's possible the latter was the worse of the options for not offering a quick pass. His wound seems to have worsened, too, the pain almost mind-numbing. But Elysium remains focused, even if he's started coughing for it. From hereon, his pain becomes hers—a constant, searing ache that persists for several days that spreads and eventually envelops his entire body, compacted in however much time it takes to dream it.

'The wound's swollen, maybe festering, and I'm hurting all over, like that time I got run over by that contraption in Rim Billiton... worse, actually.'

'My Arts are getting more powerful, though it aches when I use them.'

'Is this how it feels to get Oripathy?'

'Looks like I won't get to use those meds after all.'

… Time flits. She's once again above ground. It's indeterminable how much time has passed exactly, but Gebura will be able to move the same body she'd controlled earlier, Elysium's expression as sunny as it always has been right in front of her. ]

Morning, folks. It's been a while! Nice to see that the rebuilding is going well.

[ There are whispers of his sickness, of his plan to leave, of his dream he'd apparently shared with them not too long ago, supposedly now discarded. ]

[bemist]

[ This is far too much information and more than she ever wanted to know about this guy, but it's not like Gebura's figured out a way to break out of this, more or less forced to accept that she just has to go along with it. This is a man who's got confidence in spades and, worse, he believes in it. Not to fool the people, but to get them through this latest mess, and briefly she wonders how confident Daniel had been until he'd been put in the worst possible situation. When he'd been forced to make a choice that had ultimately led to the same outcome.

But she doesn't dwell on it long. The attitude of the people doesn't surprise her; she's been around enough people to know that as soon as things go south, they usually look for a scapegoat. The wound, though? As the ache persists, as the pain grows worse and worse... this is worse than a mere infection, isn't it? Some kind of illness?

Oripathy?

Is this something he's still contending with? She hears the whispers, and she can move and speak again, albeit not as herself. Not entirely.

Well--

It's a very Gebura response to look at him as steadily as she does, at least. ]

You're the worst kind of idiot.

[ The one who had gone back to save a village, who had apparently developed some kind of illness from it, who could still smile even as he faced the backlash of unfortunate circumstances.

Well, she might be calling out herself as well. ]

[transmit]

[ The memory veers slightly off course, but the dreamer himself doesn't notice… not yet. ]

An idiot that's managed to save a bunch of lives, so I'd say I'm doing pretty well for one, no?

[ … At this point, Gebura may notice that they aren't alone. The same townsfolk that had rebuked Elysium for his recklessness—for getting them into the situation he did—looks apologetic. Regretful. Whether Elysium holds a grudge or not, it doesn't show. ]

… Oh, don't give me that look. It's not so bad. I'm going to keep getting treated, and things don't get any better than that.

[ If anything, the words just send the man deeper into despair. ]

[bemist]

[ Well, she shouldn't expect it to be the same thing, she thinks. These people could regret their actions and their words...

What a strange thought. ]

... This treatment of yours... rather, the Oripathy. Can it be cured?

[ There's not enough information on this, not for her. ]

[transmit]

[ …

'Can it be cured.'

An innocent enough question. An innocent enough assumption, given they're talking treatment. It's not something that tips him off either, because that, too, is a part of the script. ]

Well… I don't know. But I feel as fine as I ever have, so no harm done.

[ Or so he says, while the same townsman insists on his staying. His answer remains the same unfathomable smile. ]

People will get scared if I stay, c'mon. That's just how it goes when you're Infected. I can still drop by when I get some free time, you know. There's no need to write me off completely.

[bemist]

[ "As fine as I ever have," he says, when she had felt it firsthand. That wasn't the kind of pain one could simply grin and bear forever, even someone like him. And it's a bit aggravating, for him to be so blithe about it. Maybe he does feel fine now, but no one had realized how much agony that wound had caused him while they'd been trapped, either.

If there's one thing Gebura isn't fond of (there's many), it's people who hide their feelings behind a smile. ]

You don't seem much like the staying type, anyway.

[ And of course, role or not, she's as blunt as ever. ]

[transmit]

You get it. I always did want to see more of the world! Real convenient how things tend to work out.

[ Another interjection——this time, in the form of a 'But you said…' It seems to merit a longer pause, several seconds before Elysium's shrugging his shoulders. ]

Ahaha, the Messenger thing? [ … ] Well, er, sorry about that. Turns out you can't really put a bird in a cage. This bird, anyway. You guys had a Messenger in the past, right? You're lovely folk. Another one will swing by in no time.

[ His gaze seems to suggest he isn't entirely convinced… given, it was a dream Elysium spoken about quite fervently in the past. But, at least he seems to understand that he might have the least of rights to say anything about it. ]

[bemist]

[ Another term she... well, no, she's aware of what a Messenger is, but the context of it from the City is bound to be different from what his context is. Ideally. Otherwise she'd probably hate him a hell of a lot more.

It's fine!

And finally, Gebura frowns, nudging Elysium's shoulder. ]

You know I'm not supposed to be here, right? You should probably kick me out before I see more than you wanted me to.

i.

[wheft]

[ catastrophes are common enough in ishmael's world that they don't even come with a capital C. her own body is screaming at her to get out of the way before the building collapses in on her, but she knows it's futile. she doesn't need the dream paralyzing her entirely when her innate prey instinct can do that for her just fine.

but then a flash of white hair and red swoops in just in time, and ishmael blinks owlishly up at elysium's smiling figure, blood dripping from his arm and onto her freckled cheek. she's going to assume that the injury came from the rubble and leave it at that for now. ]

Mm. Could be better. [ a shrug. ] Just... where are we, anyway?

[ also can ely move a little, he's getting way too close for comfort here.......... ]

[transmit]

I suppose you're right. A perfect score would be if I didn't scuff my jacket. [ Is that the problem here? Apparently. ] A 9.5, then.

[ There's a moment in which he looks at her oddly. He doesn't pursue it, though, the fact that they were actively in the eye of an incoming disaster at the forefront of his mind. At least, once he's ascertained that she's stable he'll return her personal space back to her; the tradeoff will be that he volunteers her for something immediately after, though. ]

But save the question, now's not the time. Help me get everyone moving and to the plaza, else this Catastrophe's gonna be on us before we know it!

[wheft]

[ he really wanted it to be perfect, huh. what a loser.

but she doesn't dwell on that for long, nor the way he gave her a strange look just now. she finds herself up on her feet now that elysium's granted back her personal space, dusts off her dress, and looks around the rubble and destruction. ]

Mm, lead the way. Just --

[ well, it'd be strange if a supposed resident of this land doesn't know what a catastrophe is, but ishmael's going to break character for a moment. ]

What kind of Catastrophe are we dealing with here?

[transmit]

[ at some point you're going to get the same essay i gave geb up above so mentally prepare yourself for that one, i guess

But yes, should people not always strive to be the best versions of themselves? It's a good thing she doesn't vocalise the thought or she'd get this exact answer. Either way, the question itself doesn't bother him; there were all sorts of Catastrophes and if context helped with her sense of urgency, all the more for it.

(Except, it really should be basic knowledge and it should trip him up—still, priorities, priorities.) ]

Looking like a two-parter in an earthquake and an incoming storm. Originium levels in the atmosphere are about to see a sharp increase, so remember to keep yourself covered and tell others the same!

[ He says, with his whole ass wound out there. But anyway. ]

If we split, we'll be able to cover more ground. You don't need me to hold your hand, do you?

[ this is not what he would say to the nice shopkeeper and he, too, is veering off script. but, it somehow feels right to, and the power of a dream is that it wouldn't matter, would it? ]

[wheft]

[ ya ill put anything u write into my mouth, trust

earthquakes and storms are common enough, sure. but originium must originate (heh) from elysium's world, and it'd be awkward to ask about it now when she's supposed to blend in his memories like she's always lived here. he told her to cover herself so that means... whatever it is, it's airborne? sorry, her honor-student mind is working overdrive here. ]

N-No, I should be fine.

[ it's an ordinary rescue mission. just escort whoever needs saving to a safe location. should be easy enough for a fixer like her. for now, she should definitely cover herself up with a jacket or something that's probably lying around here... ]

Where would you like to meet up after I gathered everyone else?

[transmit]

[ pictured, me putting all the wish and ish's gf threads into my mouth: ]

The fountain in the centre of town! After that, leave it aaaaaaaaall to me!

[ so here we arrive. at the fabled wall of text so we can get on with our post-mem cr……

The scene cuts there, and Ishmael will lose control of the body again, though not before hearing the last few exchanges of it—how Elysium's a fool for coming back, but also how he self-proclaims that he's an expert at surviving in the wilderness and will see to it that everyone makes it out alive.

The next time colour bleeds from black, Ishmael will find herself as a spectator this time, made privy to Elysium's own feelings. His arm burns for a reason that isn't exactly festering, and yet he continues to smile and calm people down, offering them words of comfort through it all. Although she's once again thrust in the midst of it, there are plenty of people around chattering; she'll be able to piece together the following information: Elysium had found them this underground shelter, they have supplies to last a few days, and that they're undeniably safe from the Catastrophe. But as origin stories often go, things aren't that easy. One particular vibration later, their way out gets blocked.

Time passes by quickly like this. The days go by and people become antsier. They take it out on Elysium: he was the one who'd lead them to the shelter, after all, and the transmission signals he sends out remain answerless despite his promises. Whether they'd stayed up there or came down here, it's possible the latter was the worse of the options for not offering a quick pass. His wound seems to have worsened, too, with blood continually seeping through despite how many times he's redressed it. But Elysium remains focused, even if he's started coughing for it. From hereon, his pain becomes hers—a constant, searing ache that persists for several days that spreads and eventually envelops her entire body, compacted in however much time it takes to dream it.

'The wound's swollen, maybe festering, and I'm hurting all over, like that time I got run over by that contraption in Rim Billiton... worse, actually.'

'My Arts are getting more powerful, though it aches when I use them.'

'Is this how it feels to get Oripathy?'

'Looks like I won't get to use those meds after all.'

… Time flits. She's once again above ground. It's indeterminable how much time has passed exactly, but now, after Elysium's gone through this memory a second time, he's looking directly at her, the other townsfolk shadowy figures against their vibrant background. ]

… And who might you be this time?

[ That doesn't sound like it's a part of the script?? ]

[wheft]

[ he was only trying to save them.

it's a futile effort, of course. if ishmael was tasked by a higher-up to save civilians, she'd do her best to carry out her task as efficiently as possible - but there's no guarantee that they will all come out of it in one piece, at least in the hellhole that is the City.

not that the world elysium came from is any better, either. she watches silently as the crowd starts to blame elysium for basically leading them into a death trap; she observes the wound that he keeps redressing over and over, noticing the way it hasn't stopped bleeding if at all. then the pain hits her, and all she can do is grit her teeth and bear it. it's a different kind of pain, yet the way it burns within her is familiar, and she flashes back to all the times her body had almost dissolved into liquid, only to be either brought back to life or rescued in the nick of time.

for elysium, there was no turning back. she watches him use... magic? she thinks he's using magic, and her surroundings shift once more and she blinks at who seems to be the present elysium in the midst of a washed-out landscape. ]

...Call me Ishmael.

[ as always. she limps a little, stretching out her legs in an attempt to shake out the fire in her body somehow. ]

What... What happened after that?

[transmit]

Oh. Miss Ishmael.

[ His smile remains inscrutable, but there's a brief moment in which something in his eyes flicker as if he's determining what to say, what to do. That brief moment is all there is before he glances towards the same shadowy figures, and the scene will slowly transition to the memory going off much like a beaten play, with Elysium and Ishmael removed from it entirely.

The group is saved, Elysium is quickly taken in for treatment. Time once again elapses for an odd month as Elysium is treated both by medicine and Arts alike—magic, in his world, with crystal growth that hadn't been on his body before now crossing certain sections of his body. If the fire could escape his body, it would, and Ishmael might have the thought that she might literally explode until it abates and wanes; it's easy and feel that he could've very well died if the rescue group had been any later than they were.

Unlike before, Elysium cuts the memory short, because she doesn't need to know about Terra's persucution problems. ]

You aren't going to feel sorry for me now, are you? [ Threading his hands behind his back, he leans forward and cants his head over to her direction now that credits play. ] I'm well and fine. Just a little hiccup on the road of life, as it goes——I did get to be pretty cool, though, so I'd say it was well worth it. [ The same placid smile. ] … If you had to take on the pain, sorry about that. But it really doesn't hurt that much anymore.

[wheft]

[ this amount of pain would've normally incapacitated anyone who's unprepared for it, but not ishmael. she's endured pierced attacks through her abdomen, blunt force trauma, getting melted into a liquid and being gnawed own by countless abnormalities she'd come across her way, on top of the horrific things she'd seen and experienced at sea -- the searing pain within her can't compare to any of those, but she does seethe and clench her teeth and knuckles until it all subsides, and she takes a series of deep breaths before looking on to the next scene ahead.

the crystal growths on his body was... staggering. reminds her of rodya's rime shank E.G.O corrosion. but this isn't about her right now, and she narrows her eyes at the candid way of speaking -- though that could be his own way of coping from his own experiences. can't really blame him for that. ]

Anymore? So that means it's still inside you.

[ she huffs. ]

The last thing you want is pity, I bet. What's done is done. [ she crosses her arms together. ] That said... Was it really worth exposing yourself to Originium to save those people when they were blaming you for saving them? I don't get it.

[transmit]

[ It's true. Elysium's story is hardly anything special. He'll even say it himself that it's simple and boring. In a world where there are more fighting for their right to live above all else, he's well aware of his own privilege. ]

Well, yeah. [ It's not something he can hide forever, so he rolls up his right sleeve to expose a neat row of said crystals. ] Outside, too. But they're quite the adornments when they aren't being troublesome, don't you think?

[ He twists his arm to and fro. They catch light and shine, much like body jewelry. ]

Haha. I don't need their validation to know I saved their lives. … As long as I'm doing what I can, when I can, that's all that matters to me. Besides, they're good people. They really did want me to stay after I got treated.

[ One could argue that it'd be out of a sense of pity, but Elysium doesn't think that far. Smiling, he rolls back up his sleeve to rest his hand on his hip. ]

… The last thing I'll do is blame someone for wanting to survive.

[wheft]

[ … The last thing I'll do is blame someone for wanting to survive."

yeah, that's going to stick with her for a while. all she did for most of her life was survive, after all. the body jewelry is pretty, but they're even more eye-catching than the freckles and scars that adorn her body. he didn't have to go through that.

but of course, he doesn't want pity like any self-respecting person out there and she's not about to give any to him now. it's just... ]

You still have other places to explore. I get it. [ she does. back home, her own journey was only beginning. ] But... you still need to rest your wings at some point. You can't keep flying forever.

what's in a home mini cyoa version hehehehehe

[newphew]

[ gimme the ark knights au!!! i have settled on what's in a home, opt in to body horror and torture and all that. if it's too greedy to get oripathy lore in there as well... hunter can be a wolf or bird person for this i will not ignore the kemonomimi ]

I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE

[transmit]

[ but for u, sipp, anything …

This dream takes them to a coastal town by the sea. Elysium, having gone through several of these already, feels his hair stand on end the moment he comes to. It's a familiar scene, but it isn't reliving a memory, per se; it starts as one, it takes the shape as one, and yet, he simultaneously both feels and doesn't feel as if he has control over any part of it as he would if it were.

A nightmare, then. One that he isn't able to give much further thought because it sure did decide to open up with one of his lovelier memories of being tied up and beaten down, surrounded by men in cultist robes. To his credit, he only grits his teeth and bears with it this time—there's little point in mouthing off when he already knows exactly how this will go.

We can say that Hunter just so happens to be by one of the windows and that the dream has subtly influenced him towards the dreamer… At least, there'll be no need for him to personally conduct a rescue mission just yet, as the next thing he'll know, there'll be a crystalline and dragon-like creature puncturing a hole through the building, releasing Elysium and promptly dispatching the cultists.

Staggering out not too soon after: ]

… Hunter? [ oh boy. his face falls into a grim line. it's a dream, but the pain is terribly real. he needs to get his bearings and fast, but that's hard to when around the corner there are shells with legs and giant mandibles coming directly for them. so on the spot, he loops a hand around one of Hunter's wrists and tugs. ] —Tch! Start running!

[ he can be a wolf boy bc being a bird boy is anticlimactic in ak u_u you'd think some of them would get wings, but no… ]