• Graded • CitW: The Curiously Nice House

[Pegasus]

Any way the wind blows

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
A little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me
Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Mama, oh oh
Didn't mean to make you cry
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters
Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye everybody I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, oh oh (anyway the wind blows)
I don't want to die
Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all
I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouch, Scaramouch will you do the Fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, figaro, magnifico
I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me
He's just a poor boy from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come easy go will you let me go

Bismillah, no we will not let you go, let him go
Bismillah, we will not let you go, let him go
Bismillah, we will not let you go, let me go
(Will not let you go) let me go (never, never let you go) let me go (never let me go)
Oh oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no
Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me for me for me

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh baby can't do this to me baby
Just gotta get out just gotta get right outta here
Oh oh oh yeah, oh oh yeah
Nothing really matters

Anyone can see
Nothing really matters

Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows

120th Ashan, 719. Midnight

The First Shard.

The Curious

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

And like that, it was done. They were on the path to the nice house, Amaris, Alistair and Sephira. There was no one with them, no guide to show them the way. Just them, and the Nice House. The path was in front of them, clear and easy to walk. Birds sang in the trees and everything looked lovely. But it was empty ~ obviously abandoned the closer to it they got. Lights burned inside, it was like whoever lived there had just stepped out, but equally, it was as though the place had stood empty for centuries.

Each room, abandoned. Their footsteps echoed as they walked in. High windows cast light on odd, out of place objects and everything gleamed of hope and stank of despair. There was not a single mirror to be found in the place, but each room had secrets to find, things to discover. There were normal, usual things in every room, but also items which did not belong there. Unusual, sometimes disturbing. Always out of place.

Walking down the path, they were together; able to talk and chat. But as soon as they stepped inside the Nice House, they were alone.

The House

Alistair was in a small room, once a library or study of some kind. Sephira, also found herself in a small room although this was a child's bedroom. Amaris, however, was in a considerably larger room - long and obviously a dining hall.

And they were each alone.

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me for me for me.

Objectives & Rules

Ok so you lot are, as soon as you get in the house, alone. Alistair, you are in Room 5, Sephira Room 4 and Amaris gets Room 9.

!	Message from: MUST DO OBJECTIVES
	You must describe the room you are in and two "out of place" items you see. These will be very important (potentially). It is vital that you let me know how you interact with them -

!	Message from: OBJECTIVES MET LAST ROUND
	Amaris wrote the longest post This will have consequences, either during the thread or in the review.

!	Message from: CAN DO OBJECTIVES
	There are 4 hidden objectives here. I'll let you know if you meet them. You may move to ONE other room. If you do - please let me know which one (the number) and the same "Must Do" objectives apply to that room. You get to decide what kind of a room it is.

Dates & Deadlines

You need to post here by Monday 4th March. If you have not done so, you've missed the round. I will be locking the thread at that time.
I will post on Tuesday 5th March.

[Sephira]

The nice house was just that...nice...and eerily quiet.

Sephira was on edge, this place was too empty and utterly devoid of life. Amaris and the other mage were with her at least. One of them she could trust, the other would hopefully be useful to the team.

The house itself was actually rather beautiful. There were high vaulted ceilings and embellished sconces decorating the walls. As soon as Sephira stepped inside the house though she turned behind her to see if the others were following, only to find herself alone.

“Just fantastic...” The woman whispered sardonically. The wolf at her side whined softly to herself as the pair moved further into the house.

Within a few minutes Sephira and Wyn slipped into a small room off the main hall. It was a child’s bedroom. The walls were painted a dark blue with silver stars scattered across them like it was depicting a night sky.

There was a narrow bed in the middle of the room covered in a turquoise quilt. On top of the quilt rested a wide pillow with two items resting upon the velvet fabric. The first was a small stuffed doll whose hair was made from bits of dark yarn. He had brown button eyes and a simple vest paired with black pants. What was perhaps most notable where the embroidered marks of hourglasses on his hands.

Sephira drew her brows together as she stared at the doll.

Liam. She had pushed him aside when she had gone to Rynmere. It had been her job and her duty to go on that mission and she had left without a second thought. Perhaps it was her Rupturing Spark that had eased any discomfort in leaving him and her family. Her Spark wanted her to travel and to leave behind those that tied her down...but equally it had been her choice to accept Kura’s assignment to go and retrieve the portal stone.

Sephira reached out, her hand hovering over the doll for a moment as if she didn’t know if she even wanted to touch it. Then the mage’s onyx black eyes flitted over to the second item. It was a sword that lay sheathed on the pillow. The blade was the mirror image of her saber Wyvern, but it was also very different. The hilt which was normally a warm brassy hue was instead a deep glossy black, as was the blade, and glints of crimson light drifted across its entire surface. The entire weapon exuded an aura that she recognized as that of her Rupturing Spark. A hungry, powerful entity that could both destroy and protect.

It was obviously a choice, and whoever was showing this to her was being very obnoxious about it.

“Are you alright?” Wyn asked worriedly whilst sniffing around the foot of the bed.

“I’m...” Sephira’s voice was cut off as something distant pulled at her and a remote but familiar voice sounded in her mind.

"Sephira! Kura!"

“Max...?” The word left her mouth and instantly panic shot through the Rupturer.

Something was very wrong. She knew Maxine was somewhere in this world, they had seen each other in the Waiting Place but had later been separated. Even if this was some sort of illusion Sephira would not take that chance. Maxine was her friend;, even if they fought, even if they disagreed they always would protect each other. Even if protecting each other cost someone else something dear. The memory of Rey’na flared into existence in the mage’s thoughts just before she began drawing in ether to cast Static to attempt to obscure what she was able to do.

Max needed help, and Sephira would do everything in her power to find her.

Without a second through the Element turned behind her to take up the obsidian sword that crackled with the inner desires of her Spark. Wherever she was going, the woman wanted a weapon; her choice was made.

“What are you doing?” The wolf at her side asked with alarm, somehow sensing the flow of ether within her companion.

“I’m going to get her.” The mage growled somberly with determination in her voice.

With those words Sephira breathed in, drawing ether into her Spark as she did so. It felt like liquid lightning and it made her Rupturing Spark bristle in anticipation. Reaching out into the abyss of the world around them, the Attuner searched for Maxine’s Frequency. She had always been able to find Maxine in the past this way but this time trying to find her was like trying to peer through a pool of mud. This world was not like that of Idalos. It flexed, shifted, and changed like a living thing, however there was something else within her that seemed to be able to find purchase on the fabric of this reality. Spreading the fingers open across the open palm of her left hand, tendrils of crimson light blazed to life between her fingers before beginning to resolve into the shape of a scying portal. The image within the pool of radiance was distorted but she could still see a familiar but panicked face who was pounding her fists to pulp in desperation.

Around the ex-con Sephira signed a horrifying familiar set of scenery. It was the amphitheater in Scalvoris...beneath the docks. It was where everything had started. Horrors surrounded the other woman, bodies of friends and foes and blood flowed freely.

She had to get her out of there.

“Get behind me Wyn.” The soldier hissed as she poured the raw silken power of ether into her Sparks. The scarlet tattoos across Sephira’s body lit up, revealing the runic shapes beneath the thin pajamas she wore. Midnight black eyes settled on the distance as she focused on the image of Maxine trapped in that horrible place. It had to be some sort of prison, or a nightmare.

The Rupturer reached out with her free hand, gripping the sword in her right as she drew a circle in the air with the tip of her fingers. This was something normally a novice Rupturer resorted to when they were first learning to open portals. It helped with stability and ensured a cleaner portal when it was more easily visualized. Sephira wanted whatever edge she could give herself for what was about to happen next.

Reaching out with her two Sparks; her Attunement Spark acting as the guide and her Rupturing Spark was the power. The woman also blended these together with whatever else was within her that seemed to allow her to “sense” the fabric of this reality. This new ability had been tugging at her mind and her dreams ever since the Maze, now it was time to see what it could actually do.

The air within the small blue bedroom became electrified as raw etheric energy crackled around the mage. Her black eyes gleamed crimson with the light of her witchmark as she focused on Max and wherever the woman was in this strange world. All the while the song of sorrow from earlier continued to play along in her mind. Sephira held onto it to keep her grounded to this plane and to her body. The Rupturing Spark within her blazed with excitement as it strove to warp this reality and her Attunement Spark rippled with rampant curiosity. This was something new and the Sparks within her felt it.

There was every chance she might overstep and kill herself but such was the way with friends.

You protected them, and they you. No matter the cost.

Inhaling sharply the mage focused all of her strength and reached through the fabric of reality to form the portal.

Off Topic

Two items, a stuffed plush Liam, and a black sword.

Received permission from Peg to scry Max.

Dialogue|Thoughts

!	Message from: Pegasus
	A shimmering portal forms. It's beautiful. There's a slight hum to it which sounds like comfort to anyone who hears it. As it forms, Sephira disappears.

[Alistair]

It wasn't the group that he wanted, though he couldn't say that he knew any of them, even the two he'd chosen. Their demeanor towards one another seemed to point towards familiarity, but all Alistair knew was that he'd seen some of them - for a brief flash - back in the stunted riot that he'd witnessed in Scalvoris. The rest... well. He knew them as well as any stranger, and the condescension he felt towards others on the outside world carried the same weight here. Alistair didn't know what they were capable of, and didn't imagine they knew much. Most of the people present probably didn't even gather that this might have been Emea - maybe they believed they were stuck in daydreams.

"You used magic there, earlier, didn't you?" he asked Sephira, referring to her action that had caused for the Waiting Place to sing. She was one of the ones he'd seen before, and if he could only remember the glimpses, she was a mage. "Don't do that again," the mage advised, in his typical measure that sounded much more like a command. "We are beyond a Foyer. We are walking in dreams. Any magic you perform might call them to you -- I feel you must know that." 'Them' was a vague term, but if she had any wise mentor, she would know what he meant. The Nightmares. The things that surely plagued both of their dreams, and of late, especially his own.

And then... they stepped through the door, and the landscape changed around him. He was separated from them both. Though disoriented, he glimpsed around the room, to see that it was a study not dissimilar from his own. Books surrounded him in shelves on all four directions, with a door at the edge of the room that would allow his escape. The furniture was wooden and ornate, a thing he felt he'd been missing for all the time he spent in Quacia. The shelves were filled with the burgeoning of books, and they were clean and free of dust. Being somewhere like this felt comforting to him. Perhaps the books would have answers in them, knowledge of what great mystery he'd stepped into, and how he might emerge.

If these were Emean books, they could chronicle things he had not known, things even the Immortals didn't know. Ralaith could log their teachings in Alistair's Compendium, and he could bring home with him more than just... memories of the horrors he felt he'd already begun to face. Alistair stepped from the center of the room, brushing past the studying table, to reach for one of the larger encyclopedias. He recalled how the Rune Book had given him some sort of ability, and wondered if they all might have such mystifying properties.

As he stepped forward, though, his feet were seemingly entangled by a vast array of yarn that was strewn across the floor. His crochet hook still dangling between his fingers, the mage wondered of their purpose for a trill, but ultimately decided simply to move beyond them. He had no skill in crochet, nor any interest in a ball of yarn, let alone unfurled. The answer was not in yarn, but in books and words, and apparently mirrors. He then realized, with how cryptic this place appeared to be, that perhaps there would be a book on his objective. Alistair shifted direction from the encyclopedia to the section lettered 'M', and searched through the books to see if he could find one on mirrors.

He then, halfway, turned back to the desk at the center of the room and attempted to pull his Compendium from its sliver within time. While he was here, he supposed it would be best to log what things he learned, and capture imagery that might prove profound to Ralaith.

As he did so, though, the mage was distracted by what appeared to be the second strange item he'd encounter. A skeleton, seated straight on one of the chairs, that of some sort of animal... like a small dog. His spark flickered within him, a compulsion grating on his thoughts. Use it, he could almost feel it command. All bodies and bones were resources, and here, if a caterpillar could speak... then perhaps a pile of bones could. But like he'd told the other mage, magic was not a wise endeavor in the land of dreams. It would be easy enough to make the creature into a marrow or a husk, but he was no fool. Maybe, he only thought, it could be done another way.

He focused his power, the one he'd gained from the book, on the skeletal creature and attempted to get it to move, and then to move much more, with the intention to return it to life.

Off Topic

I forgot that I have an Emea template where Ali's wearing a bear headband! lol

And... two items, one is a dead skeletal puppy (sorry) and one is a mess of yarn, sprawled across the floor.

Alistair ignored the yarn and attempted to reanimate the skeleton with his runic powers, given by the Book. He also searched the books in the room for one about mirrors, or really anything out of the ordinary, and pulled out his compendium to help him compile whatever knowledge he acquires.

!	Message from: Peg
	As Ali pulls the Book from the dying recesses of Emea, a rip in reality forms above them all. Like a tear in the very fabric of the world directly above them. Through it, they see .... chaos. Furious, frantic chaos. The rip remains, I'll respond to the rest in my next modpost <3 <3

[Amaris]

The groups were decided, their numbers split. Amaris could not help that they were pleased with the arrangement. Tio had a penchant for disaster on par with their own, and any group comprised of the two of them would surely lead to ruin. At least, that was what they thought. This stranger was perhaps better off than the man they knew. However, they made sure to stick close to the special assistant as they walked the path.

The man spoke, mostly at Sephira, in a tone that was quite commanding. And as if he had more knowledge of the place than anyone else. Which was all good and well, but there were other means of relaying things to people. Particularly in ways that didn't come off as though you were telling a child what to do. The tallest of the group might have had something to say about it, but it was lost as they drew closer to the house. A nice trap indeed.

“I wonder how many rooms it has.” It was close to a whisper, as if Fiver feared being reprimanded by the man as well. “It looks a lot bigger up close.”

As the trio stepped inside, the grandeur of where they were set in. They turned to Sephira and the other to see about how to search only to find empty air. Alone they were in this very big room - a dining room they gathered. The table was set for a meal no was present to indulge in, a single portrait hanging up above the head of the table on. A chandelier, elaborate and glittering, hung in the center of the hall. It swayed slightly, but the mixd blood paid this no mind.
Fiver hopped out of their arms and onto the table, down a chair, and up to a cage against the wall. There were others like it - filled with greenery and a perch of some kind. The bars were a gleaming gold and each cage was closed. Except for this one.

“What’s this for?”

“I don’t know, but I think you should get away from it.”

There was something eerie about that they couldn’t put their finger on. They’d rather not. “We’ve to find the others and get out once we’ve found the mirror.” Amaris didn’t take their gaze from the cage as they passed it. Why was it the only one with an open door?

“Isn't that your locket?”

Fiver had hopped back on the table, the silverware clanking and chattering as his weight disturbed them. Down to the head of the table he went, looping the chain of a locket over his paw as the mixed blood approached.

It did look like the locket around their neck. If anything, it was just a simple difference of the design being mirrored, so to speak. Flipped. Another thing to wonder about. They took it from Fiver, brows furrowed as they then attempted to open it as they had with the locket they wore.

Amaris | Fiver

[Pegasus]

Event Wiki

You're fighting for your life

Ahahahahahahahaha
It's close to midnight
Something evil's lurking from the dark
Under the moonlight
You see a sight that almost stops your heart

You try to scream
But terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze
As horror looks you right between your eyes
You're paralyzed
'Cause this is thriller
Thriller night

And no one’s gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know it’s thriller
Thriller night
You’re fighting for your life
Inside a killer thriller tonight, yeah
Ahahahahahahahaha
I'm gonna bring it tonight
Ahahahahahahahaha

You hear the door slam
And realize there's nowhere left to run
You feel the cold hand
And wonder if you'll ever see the sun
You close your eyes
And hope that this is just imagination
Girl but all the while
You hear a creature creeping up behind
You're out of time
'Cause this is thriller
Thriller night

And no one’s gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know it’s thriller
Thriller night
You’re fighting for your life
Inside a killer thriller tonight

Ahahahahahahahaha
I'm gonna thrill ya tonight
Get up, get up

Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'all's neighborhood
And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpse's shell

I'm gonna thrill ya tonight
Ooh, babe
'Cause this is thriller
Get up, get up (I'm gonna thrill you tonight)
Cause this is thriller

120th Ashan, 719. Midnight

The First Shard.

The Curious

The stream is shrunk — the pool is dry,
And we be comrades, thou and I;

With fevered jowl and dusty flank
Each jostling each along the bank;

And by one drouthy fear made still,
Forgoing thought of quest or kill.

Now ‘neath his dam the fawn may see,
The lean Pack-wolf as cowed as he,
And the tall buck, unflinching, note
The fangs that tore his father’s throat.

The pools are shrunk — the streams are dry,
And we be playmates, thou and I,
Till yonder cloud — Good Hunting! — loose
The rain that breaks our Water Truce.

"How Fear Came"
by R. Kipling

All of You!

When it happened, it all happened so fast. Ignoring the yarn (which was a shame, because he had a crochet hook.... ), Alistair came across a most odd little set of remains and, a book. A book in the "M" section of the library, no less. The book was entitled, "Mirrors: Their Symbolism & Use in the Emean Realms". He had just got to the point of that registering, and trying to animate the puppy skeleton when all hell broke loose. There was the undoubted smell of sulfur and the unmistakable noise of rupturing.

And there was a womanMaxine there. He saw her, registered her appearance and then, the Nightmare Beast attacked him.

Amaris, meanwhile, was exploring a different room. This gave Amaris a unique perspective; first on the sound, like something beautiful and soothing. Then, Fiver spoke to Amaris. "Oh, crap. Sephira's disappeared. Like.. poof. Gone." Fiver couldn't see Alistair - he wasn't one of the Maze survivors, after all.

And then, from the room where Alistair was (not that Amaris knew this) there was the unmistakable sound of combat. Things breaking, shattering.

And as Amaris, naturally, turned to look. There - unknown to the others - was a Nightmare Beast

Under the moonlight
You see a sight that almost stops your heart

Objectives & Rules

!

Message from: MUST DO OBJECTIVES

Ok so the situation is: Sephira: You are now in the prison. I believe the phrase is: Go to jail, go directly to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect 200gn. Alistair: You and Maxine have a Nightmare Beast to deal with. Have fun, enjoy, etc. Yours is a moderate Nightmare Beast, but it's powers, abilities etc are drawn out of Maxine's psyche and are, therefore, hers to decide. Amaris: You, too, have a moderate Nightmare Beast to deal with. Sephira's animal companion, Wyn, is in the room from where Sephira disappeared. So too is a small plushie of a man and a black sword. The Nightmare Beasts will seek to kill, and devour, their targets. They will do so without mercy.

!	Message from: OBJECTIVES MET LAST ROUND
	All must-do objectives met.

!	Message from: CAN DO OBJECTIVES
	There are 3 hidden objectives here. I'll let you know if you meet them.

Dates & Deadlines

You need to post here by Monday 11th March. If you have not done so, you've missed the round. I will be locking the thread at that time.
I will post on Tuesday 12th March.

[Max]

The bloodied knuckles of her clenched fist struck something other than the unforgiving, gravel-laden ground of the amphitheater. The sudden difference forced the woman to give pause. Fist cocked back, the woman blinked at the floor a couple times before she realized something had changed. The screaming had stopped. The butchered bodies of people she cared about were no longer laid out to haunt her. Her sins, both of past and future, had vanished. She took a series of quick, rattled breaths in a poor attempt to gather herself. Instead of Level Seven she was in a room. This one didn't have blood dripping along its walls or from its ceiling. It was a well-maintained nursery. At one glance it seemed to be the sort that indicated a nice, loving home. A child resting here likely had a loving family and had been well looked after. Probably. As Maxine looked closer though, something seemed...off.

Wyn?

Her wounded gaze tightened when it settled on the familiar wolf standing in the room. Sephira's wolf. The canine stared at her with ears flattened and tail tucked. Max's tortured mind remained scattered from abuse, but Wyn's sharp whine garnered all of her attention. The ex-convict furrowed her brow and took a second look at the room. It was only then that she spotted the sword resting on a pillow beside a doll. Max darted over to it, unsheathing the sword where it laid and staring at the weapon with wide eyes. The color of the hilt was wrong and the glints of portal-colored light glittered across the blade's length. It was different, but Max knew the Rupturer's saber anywhere.

The wolf. The sword.

"Where is she, Wyn?" she turned to the dreamwalking animal with demanding alarm.
"She heard you," the wolf whimpered, distressed. "She scryed you and saw you in that terrible place. She used her magic to try and get you out. It looks like it worked, but she's...gone."
"What are you talking about?"
Max was starting to put the pieces together. A deep pit formed in her middle. If she was here, did that mean Sephira was there? In her hell?
She didn't have the energy left to hide it now. Her expression contorted with fury, panic, and pain that mirrored in her eyes. Little did she know that wasn't the only place those emotions were reflected."No, no, no, no, no!" She laced her fingers tightly behind her head. "Why? Why would she do that?!"
"They're not alone," the wolf stiffened, hairs standing on end as its gaze turned distant. Another whine. "They sensed her Spark. They're hunting her now.
"Who?!"

The sounds of intense conflict a room over forced Maxine to focus on something other than the inner turmoil raging inside. She moved toward the threshold, picking up the saber as she moved. First she saw the man. There was something oddly familiar about him, but a familiarity she couldn't quite place. Then she saw it. Sleek. Fearsome. She was almost through the doorway into the study when its red-eyed stare stopped her dead in her tracks. The black, panther-like Nightmare Beast wildly hissed at her before re-orienting its predatory body back toward the stranger. Patches of its dark "fur" broke through its solid metal exterior like heavily compromised armor. An ear-splitting shriek screamed out its agape, fang-filled mouth.

What. The fuck. Is that?

Chaotic eyes darting back and forth, every part of the tensed up Nightmare screamed its desperate readiness to lash out at any available prey. This was not an entity that could be reasoned with. It was rabid, and more like a trapped animal just released from a suffocating cage than an Emean prowling hunter. Maxine detected the split second it committed back to attack the man, and when it did, she made her move. She jabbed the sword out at the creature only for it to disappear.

How?

"There's another one with Amaris!" the sweet sound of Beatrice the Honey Badger's voice piped up. Relief the stubborn creature hadn't abandoned her almost surfaced before it was replaced by that frustrated urge to beat something to a pulp. It seemed everyone was here and in serious danger. Some of which she was directly responsible for. She turned her head to search for the tall Councilwoman, but found the Nightmare Beast had manifested in the doorway instead.

She wasn't fighting it anymore. She accepted her role in the great game now. Fury focused her belligerent mind better than any smoked ambrosia. She was going to see this mess through to the end just like The Maze. Fix what's broken. Fight whoever meddled. Whatever the solution, she was going to find a way to get out, and she was not leaving without her friend. Immortals save whatever fool might convince her otherwise. Maxine would destroy whatever stood in the way of that singular goal. She gave the Emean Wyvern a twirl. Her rage-filled gaze settled on her angry kindred---the Nightmare tensing to pounce.
"Well come on then!"

► Show Spoiler

Nightmare Beast Abilities: Blinking. Extreme Biology. Bestial. Painless. Keen Sense (Hearing). Natural Weapons (Fangs).
Skills: Unarmed Combat: (50), Hunting (50), Detection (25), Strength (25)

Dialogue|Thoughts

[Alistair]

"What the fuck?!" he yelled. Right as he'd attempted to pull his book from Emea, the fabric of the Dream itself appeared to rip where he'd focused the sliver of time, and through it was the immensity of chaos. It loomed above him, encircling him from within the structure of the ceiling, and within it appeared to be some sort of... hell-like depiction; a purgatory within the dream, though he could only assume it was the unbound flex of ether, like a hurricane of magic. He had so little of a perception for these things, however, and knew not what he dealt with. He could only infer either that it was unwise to pull from another Emean domain while separate from it, or Ralaith himself was in some sort of danger. Alistair bit his lower lip and frowned, though he did not immediately flee from the scene, as the rift did not appear to expand and at the moment it didn't feel threatening.

It didn't appear his attempt to manipulate his environment worked, so he wondered what he was supposed to be doing. The mage quickly grabbed the book on mirrors from the shelf and huddled it beneath his under-arm, only for yet another strange series of events to occur. He smelled sulfur, he heard the sound of a portal opening almost as if he had been the one to craft it; so near it was. A woman appeared, someone he recognized distantly through his experiences in... Gods, he couldn't even remember where. And there was one more addition to the study. From his experiences with Abaddon, marked by Kielik, and his memories of the hunting grounds he'd been dreaming of all too often - and even lucidly - he knew what appeared before him.

It was a Nightmare. He had heard a Rupturer's squeal, the ripping open of reality, like clockwork and right after he advised the young lady not to indulge her spark. Did the other mage not listen to him, then? Had she brought them here?

He had to admit, he was truly confused. No matter how many strange things had occurred since he'd been pulled into the Dream, the continual growth of the oddities bore down on his mind. Alistair had started to wonder if this really was a dream, some lucid depiction of Abaddon's. He grit his teeth and bore his fists, regardless, not wishing to be killed in case it wasn't one. Alistair examined the form of the beast; it appeared like a panther, but larger and with piercing red eyes. It was ominous, though not entirely fear-invoking after all he'd experienced in his dreams already. Alistair attempted to call Kemma to his side, but she was blocked. Alive, but behind some sort of screen, impenetrable even by the will of Ralaith. He was only glad attempting to call her did not create a further schism, but it was unfortunate that she wouldn't be able to bolster him in this fight.

"Lady, do you know what's going on?" he asked her. Since she appeared to have enmity with the Nightmare, and had just appeared out of nowhere, he had to wonder if she had some idea of what was happening.

Alistair got into stance. Krenn Maii, to be more specific, though from the light way in which he stood on his heels it was clear that he was almost going to fight like a Shadowdancer, despite not having a spear. He would utilize agility to beat the creature, hoping to surpass its own.

The mage slowly tread forward towards the end of the study, his focus almost meditatively honed to the figure of the Nightmare. The moment it moved, rapidly zipping to the side and attempting to strike him from his flank, Alistair twisted his form and sunk back on his heels - Gravelmonger - quite literally lowering his body until it nearly met the ground, balanced entirely on his feet. He punched upwards, and hard, slamming with incredible force into the gut of the Nightmare. Then, he propelled himself back upwards with his feet, seeming to be capable of exerting immense force through them. He did so by tackling the creature from below, and reversing their positions by suplexing it onto the ground. It attempted to claw at him with its arms, though he restrained them by gripping it from the beginning of where its shoulders met its arms.

Alistair then kicked it, once, and it disappeared. He'd focused the summary of his strength into his blows, and so he'd already dealt a lot of damage, but he hadn't killed it. The creature reappeared behind him, and the mage quickly front-flipped away, only to gather traction with his feet and skid on the ground, before leaping forward with a fast, acrobatic kick. Once he impacted the creature's face, he swung his leg downward and hard, bashing into its head from above with an undercutting kick.

The creature growled and vanished again. This time, though incredibly wounded and staggered in its movements, it lunged directly for Maxine, seeking to at least take out one target before it retrained its focus to the mage.

[Amaris]

Things breaking, shattering - not good signs. Not at all. They had learned that much, which made the turn to see what it was all the worse when they faced the beast. Amaris should have remained tensed at the sight of the ram. Rams were, on occasion, known for being highly combative. Territorial. This one did not seem so, calmly staring their direction. For all the mixed blood could see, its hide was taut against its frame, sinew straining against skin. A red that could rival a blood orange’s flesh stained its hide, though its horns were much darker. There were still the distinct hints of red, caught in the light of the chandelier.

How it had gotten there, the mixed blood would not know. But it stood in place, nostrils flared and eyes unblinking. Except - it had no eyes. What should have been them were instead two slits that were opened wide. One step forward it took, then another, head turning from side to side. It seemed uninterested in the full spread on the table, chest heaving with breaths as it drew closer.

“Amaris -”

Fiver could scarcely finish his call before the beast charged, head down with its horn trained in the hare’s direction. He hopped over to the mixed blood, the ram gaining speed. The sound of hooves reverberated through the large room, bouncing off the walls and drowning out the noise from the other room. It opened its mouth and an equally horrifying sound left its mouth - not quite human but not quite animal either. A garble of screams and pleas chased the pair down as the mixed blood caught their hare companion and began a mad dash around the head of the table.

Having something between would not be enough, but it would be a start. Locket clutched in their hand as they ran, they were soon very unhappy with the lack of weapons. Of all things they had been given, it would be a locket. One that they couldn’t even open. But nothing to protect themselves with. The original beat against their chest as they ran. There was a crash as the ram slammed into the wall, a sizeable indentation following when it backed up.

The mixed blood froze. And so, too, did the creature. It returned to its previous state, an inquiring thing that sniffed the air about it. They’d seen this present in something before; in creatures with poor sight. Those often made up for it with other senses. Perhaps if they stayed still or moved slowly - this was not such a good idea.

It opened its maw once more, a mangled mess that split its face near in two as it did so, and screeched that blood-curdling screech it’d first uttered as it charged them once more. Again, they ran around the head of the table, but the beast anticipated this. Anticipated. The thought alone, or what little of it Amaris managed to have despite their panic, was terrifying. There was a stutter in their step as the creature leapt over the table, hind legs clipping the table. It was enough force to chip off a chunk of the table and tip it. Not enough to overturn it entirely, but the clatter of dishes was enough of a distraction.

Thinking they had run again, it turned as the mixed blood continued forward. Fiver in their arms among other things, they had little means of slowing themselves as they continued to slip forward. The two forces collided, with Amaris coming to an abrupt stop and the creature startled. But this left the mixed blood at the mercy of hooves and horn, the gnarled end of the latter soon directed at them. They used the notebook as a momentary defense, kicking out and swinging at once.

The creature backed up and Amaris opened their mouth. Stupid, was what it was. But - “Stop!” - and it did. Perhaps it had never been yelled back at, but it stopped, as if processing the singular word that had been said to it, before proceeding forward. The mixed blood had already given themself away by yelling and with them so close, picking up their scent was all the easier. It lifted one hoof before stamping it down, just barely missing the entirety of Amaris’s left hand. But it didn’t miss their pinky, crushing the digit underfoot.

It took every last drop of strength they could muster - which was not much - that they could to keep from screaming out. The metal chain of the locket in their hand melded with flesh and bone in a strange mash of the gleaming remnant of their pinky. A mess they couldn’t afford to look at, not if they wanted to get out of this. The creature lifted its hoof, drips of crimson leaving it as it stepped back this time. Displeased with having missed the main target, it shook its head from side to side. And then - “Amaris!”

Fiver leapt from their arm, slipping under the table. His small size allowed him to get right on over to the other side of the table with little obstruction. The beast followed, barreling into the table. It shook the wood splinters off almost like it was nothing, slowed momentarily by the destruction it had caused. Fiver continued on, and soon the beast followed, picking up on his movement. Amaris lost sight of the hare for the moment, but it was an opportunity they took.

Up to their feet they got, and the ram turned to face them now. It huffed, stopping to make a decision. A choice. Fiver would prove difficult to catch; much smaller and easy to slip into a small space. Amaris would be the better target of the two. And so, it turned and charged. They stumbled back as it approached, horn pointed at them. Another very dumb idea, but they fumbled with the locket, which seemed much more eager to open this time.

As the creature drew closer, something glinted off the smoothness of its horn and it was gone. The locket shut, but the dull beat of something akin to a heart thudded against their chest. The other, left on the floor, held the same beat, but hard enough to move it about slightly. Fiver sniffed at it, waiting as it still before looping it around his neck and hopping back hurriedly to Amaris.

The strength left their legs as Amaris dropped to the ground, glancing up. “Are you alright?” They nodded, though that wasn’t an entirely truthful answer. The pain in their hand was enough that it felt like it’d traveled up their arm. But Fiver looked near ready to keel over with worry, little white nose working and ears twitching. The cage they had seen before loomed beside them.

It was closed.

► Show Spoiler

Minor Traits - bestial, blind sense, quadruped, natural weapon (horn); Major Traits - Commander, Supernatural Sense
Skills - Detection (60), Strength (30), Hunting (60)

Uh locket acts as a cage? Other locket releases.

Amaris | Fiver

[Pegasus]

And so it goes, and so it goes....

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self defense

And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break

And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break

And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

120th Ashan, 719. Midnight

The Moment.

The Curious

Master of human destinies am I;
Fame, love and fortune on my footsteps wait.
Cities and fields I walk. I penetrate
Deserts and seas remote, and, passing by
Hovel and mart and palace, soon or late,
I knock unbidden once at every gate.

If sleeping, wake; if feasting, rise, before
I turn away. It is the hour of fate,
And they who follow me reach every state
Mortals desire, and conquer every foe
Save death; but those who hesitate
Condemned to failure, penury and woe,
Seek me in vain, and uselessly implore.
I answer not, and I return no more.

~John Ingalls~

Different things happened in that house, that trial. Some good. Some bad.

Some, very bad.

The machinations of a now-dead-owl made things much more difficult and, as Ornery exploded in bone and feather, so too did it become easier for the Nightmare Beasts to attack. This was not helpful. Not one little bit.

For Alistair and Maxine the fight was beyond difficult. Even at Alistair's level of skill, with Maxine's fury and weapon, still the two of them fought at the very limit of their physical prowess. Seconds turned into hours, and hours bled into what felt like trials as the pair of them combated the Beast. It drew blood in multiple places, ripping through flesh and howling in fury as they did the same.

But, eventually, it fell.

With a howl which shook their deepest subconscious fears, it fell. The pair of them were battered, cut, bloody and bruised. It had fought ferociously and without mercy. And at the very second that it disintegrated into black goo, Maxine (Beatrice and Wyn, too) disappeared.

Amaris meanwhile was forced to defend with a notebook, although they did their best. Then, there was a strange back and forth between Amaris, Fiver and the Nightmare Beast, the final outcome being that Amaris, bruised and battered, out of breath and close to despair.

"Amaris?" Fiver said and, as the mixed-race dreamer looked down at their hand or, more precisely, where their hand had used to be, Amaris passed out.

Which meant that Alistair heard the strange noise of a bunny screaming.......

So I would choose to be with you



That's if the choice were mine to make

Objectives & Rules

!

Message from: Individual Situations

Ok lovelies. Here we go. Alistair & Maxine That was a monumental fight. Please feel free to determine your specific injuries but you are injured. That Nightmare Beast is dead and, as Alistair hears the scream he has a choice. He knows it, instinctively. If he puts his hand out and touches Max, he will go with her. Or, he can stay here. Amaris You are unconscious and have a severely (impossibly so) mutilated hand. You are out of the thread. Thank you for your contribution - the repercussions for Amaris will be in the review. Please be aware, this may still be death - that is dependent on... other things. Maxine Next round, you are in the Curiously Spooky House....

!	Message from: All Of You
	As stated at the beginning - this thread is high risk. At least two of you are currently in very genuine, very significant danger of being dead. Please be clear in your next posts exactly what you're doing.

Dates & Deadlines

You need to post here by Monday 18th March. If you have not done so, you've missed the round. I will be locking the thread at that time.
I will post on Tuesday 19th March.

[Alistair]

The beast they fought had been tough. Alistair didn't realize just how enduring it was - he'd inflicted such immense damage so early on and still, it didn't die. The creature started to not even flinch, as if it had become tolerant of his blows. From that point on, the battle was no longer one-sided. Alistair had been inflicted with multiple wounds; claws across his upper pectoral and his upper bicep, a large and singular sweep at his thigh beneath his breeches. Fortunately, his muscles were akin to an armor and he did not bleed, and due to Sesser they would begin to recover over time. With his endurance, the wounds against his flesh weren't significant, and he didn't need to stop the bleeding due to his mutation. Alistair wasn't - truly - in danger of death. But Maxine... Maxine was.

The mage glanced to her, and was met with a strange instinctual urge to grip at her palm which began to extend. He knew - somehow - that if he took her grip, he would vanish with her into some other unknown. But the mage knew that they had a mission to complete here, and strangely enough he worried for the very tall person and the other mage. If he had been attacked by a Nightmare, then perhaps they had been too. And besides - weren't they here to collect fragments?

He did not take her hand. Maxine disappeared almost instantly after the decision had been made, with only the carcass of the Nightmare and the other scattered belongings remaining. The mage recognized, now, that the yarn he'd found on the floor could be useful in case he needed to mend the injuries of others who did bleed. He ran to it and picked it up, as well as grabbing the book on mirrors and tucking it beneath his arm. Then, he heard a high-pitched scream from another room. If there was any clear cue that something might have happened to one of the other members of his 'group', as he felt they were, it was that.

He followed the sound of the scream, and found himself in a dining hall, a large room befitting of a proper noble estate. A few things quickly came into vision: a Nightmarish Ram that huffed and sounded low, violent growls, and the bodies of one of the other dreamers - one of the ones who was in his group. From this, Alistair quickly gauged several things: one, he was not alone in the house. Two, his group and he had been split up, somehow. And three, nightmares had assaulted all of them. The mage set his book of mirrors onto the dining table as he glared down the Ram. It seemed ready to finish off the job on the mixed blood, but Alistair began to sprint towards it in order to assail it with blows. It turned once he'd gotten close to it - within ten feet. Alistair entered a proper fighting stance, with his two arms raised before him, one extended out further from the other and both of them pointed upward-diagonally from their elbows.

It was Krenn Maii. He was not going to fuck around anymore - the beasts needed to die, and the shards needed to be found. They had a mission to do and it needed to be done, whatever the purpose of this... game was. He didn't know.

The Ram charged him. Alistair quickly lowered himself onto the ground and rolled under the table, though immediately as the Ram crossed where he had once been, he rolled back out and punched it hard from behind, throwing his weight into his fist. The creature squealed violently, and then Alistair rolled underneath the table once again, emerging from the other side. It began to bash through the table itself, splitting it in half as it shattered the wood within its path, though before it bashed into the wall Alistair strafed backward and began to pummel its head hard as it hit the wall. The strength of his blows was immense, bashing the creature's skull several times until it began to cave. It wailed and screamed, then turned to bash Alistair in a whip of its head. The mage lowered himself incredibly close to the ground with Gravelmonger, then assailed its neck with a flurry of heavy punches. He rolled out from under it, landing against the fallen dining table and running forward to gather some distance. It chased after him, though its head seemed to limp against its neck.

Alistair rounded the fallen dining table, forcing the creature to lose its momentum by having to turn. Once it attempted to steer its charge to the corner, he flipped over the fallen dining table and assaulted its head from the other side.

He dispatched it deftly. It was only a few more powerful blows from his armored fists before the creature began to melt into a black, bubbling carcass. Alistair observed another strange creature, a rabbit... thing, but he noted that it was harmless if not benign so he ignored the creature entirely and ran directly for Amaris. He got to work immediately, pulling his crochet hook from his breeches and with the yarn wrapped around his arm. He looked at her hand. Alistair had no medical equipment or reagents, or -- anything. But he could save it, or at least stop the blood flow. Using the crochet hook he began to weave a part of the yarn around her mutilated hand, crafting it quickly into that of a makeshift bandage or tourniquet. He targeted the place where she'd begun to lose the most blood flow first, but eventually wrapped it around her hand entirely save for the revealed digits of her fingers, though fortunately they did not bleed.

The pressure would be enough to ensure she didn't lose much more blood, and that her wounds would coagulate. He set it into place, tying it perfectly back around and ensuring that it remained locked around her mutilated hand. Alistair then pulled the excess yarn so that he could continue to use it in case of any other emergencies, cutting it with a sharp section of the hook. Having nowhere else to do so, he stuffed it into his breeches. Then, he immediately began to slap her gently on the face, yelling 'wake up' over and again until - hopefully - she did so. Her breathing was fine, if slightly erratic, but that meant he had no need to perform any breathing maneuvers or anything of the like - she had likely passed out due to stress or fear. Which meant she should be easy to wake.

Once he finished treating her and urging her to rise, Alistair ran to the broken dining table to grab his book on mirrors. He flipped through the pages, seeking anything. He beseeched every God he could to help him find the shards, and hoped that perhaps by a stroke of luck he could find them - both of them. It was only him and a half-dead girl now, he felt, not knowing where the Rupturer had gone and nor did he hold the faintest clue of where the shards were. He needed to find them now - it was the only way to save the mixed blood, and perhaps to find the answers he so curiously sought.

"Please, please, please..." he continued to repeat.

Off Topic

Treated and woke up Amaris (hopefully), killed the Nightmare Beast, and Alistair is using his stroke of luck unknowingly to try and find all of the Nice house's shards while flipping through the Book on Mirrors to find something useful.