Event - The 25,000 Light Year View

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The 25,000 Light Year View

The atmosphere in the lower level gym at ADI headquarters is… tense, to say the least. Nia, Neil, and Rae are present with the rest of those remaining at the organization (or willing to come when called by Neil and Rae for a final statement) seated in benches and chairs that have been dragged in. It's not the usual, orderly meetings that some might have gotten used to for mission briefings.

Neil speaks first. "Thank you, everyone, for coming in. Lot's been happening, but we've come to… an understanding about where we need to go. The artifacts that were in the Vault have all been accounted for or noted as destroyed in some manner with a few exceptions. We're still chasing- ADI is still chasing those down with help from anyone who might want to give it. Won't pretend this is going to be a kumbaya moment, so let's get down to brass tacks. There's an apocalypse on. Whatever this organizations stands for now, its original mission was to uncover and stop those. That's still my mission."

"Mine, too," Rae chimes in.

"It's one we all share," Nia adds.

Neil nods before continuing. "So, we stop this, and we go our separate ways. I'll be leaving ADI and starting my own organization. We've seen a large number of threats in the Appalachian region and a lot of folks heavily impacted by decisions ADI's made. I'll be taking my organization there. Already been in touch with our- with ADI's field agents in the region. Some will be joining me. Along with a certain newsperson who keeps sniffing around. We'll do what we can to do right by the people who've been hurt most. That's going to be our focus. Support and security. We're not feeding the Hunt anymore by running down threats."

Rae steps up next. "And I'll be going where I need to. Lot of threats out west. If you're looking to do some good that won't be working for the Hunt… maybe think about heading that way."

Nia is the last to speak. "And I'll be staying here in Gloucester. ADI will be staying. And I will be its final Warden. We're stopping Zyrian, then we're figuring out what the hell is going on with Dogtown to get all of you people from other worlds home. Or at least stop anyone else coming in. After that? I'm out. What happens after that is still in the works. But Neil's agreed to stay in touch to help with everything… once I'm gone." There's a flicker of emotion across Neil's stoic expression. Regret, frustration… grief. "But right now, we look to Wolf Trap. I-"

There's a pause, and Neil and Rae look to Nia in concern as she puts a hand to her temple. She recovers, though. "Huh… We look to Wolf Trap, Virginia. We'll have buses to get everyone down there. We'll be arriving just as Copernicus' launch of the New Horizon's project is underway. That's where Zyrian Steel's going to do his ritual. We need to find the server rooms at the event. Those are important."

Rae squints at Nia, "You sure?"

Nia nods. "Yeah. I'm real sure about that. It'll be dangerous, though, and that's not the- it's not the only threat that's gonna be there."

Neil's looking wary. "Nia?"

"There's something else. The Web? It's not just the Vast that's involved in this, I don't think. It would make sense, right?" She shakes her head. "We'll be facing multiple Entity threats down there, not just the Vast. And I'm sure Zyrian's gonna kick the ritual off on the last day, once he's had time for-for something… not sure what. But he's a dramatic bastard, if nothing else. And timing's everything."

Neil and Rae exchange uncertain looks before Neil speaks up again. "Coming is voluntary, like always, but we'll want boots on the ground to cover as much ground as possible. They'll be holding the biggest events and productions at the Filene Center stage. But we're expecting tech booths scattered all throughout the park. Be on your guard."

"And bring a gun," Rae advises.

➥ Links

• General Setting Prompts - Part 1 & Part 2
  
• NPC/Mod Response Prompts - LINK
  
  

Wolf Trap Park
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[apocalypsehowmods]

Please direct any questions HERE!

General Setting Prompts - Part 1

[apocalypsehowmods]

General Setting Prompts

This section is for general RP prompts. While character actions in these prompts may have an overall impact on the event, mods will not be responding directly to any actions taken here.

_

➥ Dance, Dance, Revolution

(cw: compulsion, loss of autonomy)

Filene Center, set in the northern portion of its park, is nearly a work of modern art itself. The paving stones of the area are a neutral gray with colored tiles and cutouts of local masonry set into swirling designs all meant to guide the eye towards the center stage. There are many exhibits and displays set up for the event held today in honor of Copunicus’ technological steps forward, but to kick the event off…why not a little music?

The band itself is nothing special to notice as though the music itself drowns them out and lead them to blend into their art. The leadwoman is the only one who stands out, sporting distinctive tattoos around her mouth: thick, black, lines leading down from the corners of her lips to her chin. The music starts simple, a weaving of notes like threads through the gathering, ushering attendees in for the event as a whole and some spectators even closer than that. The area in front of the stage stands invitingly open to anyone feeling the pull to dance. Perhaps a bit too literally. It’s not a conscious thought that enters your head as you stray too close to the stage, just the idea of dancing. Dancing sounds good, doesn’t it? When was the last time you danced?

Getting closer allows the words to filter in through the music. Stories of dancing for joy, of tragic loss of self, of a fight between lovers, and some that even lead verses through a story of violence. It’s another thought, one that feels almost like your own idea. If the steps are so clearly laid out for you, why not follow them?

Perhaps you dismiss the idea, perhaps it seems like a silly thought, but once the idea has taken hold, that pull feels more like a yank. An invisible force around wrists and knees and ankles pulls listeners along, a marionette of the music. Fight as you might, the lyrics narrate the dancers through their twisted performances without escape. Not until the last note of the song fades. In the breath between songs, perhaps you may find the will to break away once more.

_

➥ Wired

(cw: phantom limbs; body dysmorphia; body horror; existential horror; dead bodies; snakes, electric shock)

From the outside, the server room is little more than an 8-by-8-foot box set up in the parking lot behind the Filene Center. Out of sight, out of mind for those visiting the park for the grand unveiling of Copernicus' newest technologies. For those with more interest in the new and innovative, the stands set up in front of the Filene Center and around the park are far more enticing than an unremarkable set of white walls.

Perhaps you'll take an interest in the stand where you can test moving an artificial hand just by hooking a set of ear pieces around the back of your head. The sensation of a phantom third hand that keeps stretching and moving will surely fade in just a few minutes. Nothing to be worried about.

Perhaps you'd like to see yourself in a multitude of different fashions or with some… enhancements to your body. Step up to one of the Magic Mirror displays and press a few buttons to make your selection. Doesn't that other version of you look so much better? Taller, better dressed, curvier, whatever flaws you might perceive in your physical appearance can be melted away with the Magic Mirror. If going back to your boring inadequate body afterward is too much… Well, maybe there's a way to make those changes more permanent. For a price.

Perhaps you've made it to the Children's Theatre-in-the-Woods and will get to build your own little robot toys. If the little clicks and whirs they make seem to spell out 'HELP' 'GOD' 'WHY' and 'HURT' in Morse Code? Well, that's just silly! Who would even notice that? It's all in good fun. Help build more of the little friends for someone to take home with them.

Or perhaps you are focused on the prize. Those who approach the server room will find it almost suspiciously unguarded given security elsewhere for the event. Stepping inside might give one an idea of why. There's only a low level of red light and a small entry area with dividers all around. It seems impossible to actually get past those dividers at first. They look like flimsy plastic, but that's only appearances. They become passable as soon as the door to outside clicks shut. And will not open again easily. But you're here for the servers, right? No going back!

The area beyond the dividers is huge, much, much bigger than the building should be. There are rows upon rows upon rows of servers stacked up to a ceiling that stretches higher than you can actually see, beyond anything even a flashlight can illuminate. There is no way you have enough explosives or bullets or hands to wreck everything here unless you had weeks.

Multi-colored wires bristle from every visible server. The ground is covered in them. Just trying to walk presents a tripping hazard. Amongst the wires and rows, though, are those who seem to have already tripped, already succumbed to whatever power is here. Arms and legs and partial torsos are visible, the rest of people subsumed by the wires. Some of them are still, some twitch and jerk. In the distance, you might be able to hear whimpering or outright screams.

While it might seem to be just wires and servers, there are, in fact, some silver, sphere-like transmitters tucked here and there about the place. They're definitely transmitting out of this room and seem to be most prevalent around the bodies of those trapped in the wires. Probably want to get rid of those. And maybe try to pull people out of the wires? But be quick about your work.

Something slithers amongst the wires. They crackle with electricity and seem to be the ones dispersing the transmitters. Serpents made of exposed copper wire that will fling themselves at intrudes to deliver a debilitating electrical shock… then work to get their victims hooked into the machines.

_

➥ Mod Notes

• GENERAL - Players are welcome to play background NPCs for themselves when they are needed in a thread. If you need more information on general behavior for these types of NPCs, please feel free to ask! In general, you're at a tech fair! There are going to be geeks aplenty here, and more than a few skeptics. There will be many Zyrian Steel fanboys, and some detractors wanting to see him fail. There are also families who have come for the event, so characters might see people of all ages around. Please remember that character deaths are permanent and plan accordingly!
  
  
• DANCE, DANCE, REVOLUTION (16-19 June) - Characters pulled in by the music may find themselves ‘dancing’ to any kind of song. Whatever the lyrics, solo or in pairs, they’ll be forced to act out whatever is happening in the song. If the song is about having a terrible fight with your significant other, hopefully the other person isn’t actually your significant other. If it’s about dancing until you drop, well…that might leave some bruises. Once the song ends, the compulsion will be weak enough for characters to break free and leave the area, but if they take too long, the next song will start and they’ll be forced to dance again. Anyone trying to approach the stage will find their thoughts harder to grasp onto until the only thought left is how they’re needed. Across the park. Right now. Just sit back and enjoy the music!
  
  
• WIRED (16-19 June) - Characters can experience one or all of the booth horrors, should they so desire. The people actually running the tech booths seem genuinely enthusiastic and unaware of the terrible effects their innovations may be having on people. For those who use the Magic Mirror, cosmetic changes that exist in the mirror can be kept permanently at the price of the character experiencing permanent dysmorphia regarding the change and other aspects of their body. They will never again feel right in their own skin. The effects of the mechanical hand will dissipate over the course of 24 hours. The little robots that people are building don't seem to have any autonomy beyond the whirring and clicking in Morse Code. They are incapable of complex codes or conversation, simply repeating the pleas and cries of suffering and horror. Destroying them will stop the clicking… but does that really solve the problem? Is there any solution? Not in this case, unfortunately. Characters are free to take the robots home with them, regardless, should they wish to have the toys for their entertainment.
  
  For the server room, the dividers will not open until the door to the outside is closed. No human means will break through the barriers, not even explosives. Characters can work on rescuing those who have been trapped, be trapped themselves, fight the copper serpents, or try to disable the transmitters that the serpents leave out. This is as easy as crushing them. They're not very strong.

General Setting Prompts - Part 2

[apocalypsehowmods]

General Setting Prompts

This section is for general RP prompts. While character actions in these prompts may have an overall impact on the event, mods will not be responding directly to any actions taken here.

_

➥ Enter the Matrix

(cw: dissociation and derealization; existential horror related to the size of the universe; villain actively attempting to induce a mental health crisis; altered mental states in general; paralysis; harm to imaginary animals)

The minds of living creatures know their own fragility on some deep, unthought level. There are facts of life and science known to anyone with a basic education, that are yet not known, things learned by the mind that the soul refuses to ever truly comprehend. One can speak of lightyears, of galaxies and the vast emptiness of space in an ever-expanding universe, but the divide between understanding numbers on a page rather than truly absorbing the merciless scope of existence is a mental divide born of self preservation.

Zyrian's machine is designed to tear down that divide, to peel back the layers of its victims' natural defense against seeing, comprehending, and Knowing precisely how unimaginably small they truly are in relation to the totality of reality. Once you're caught in the wires and plugged into the machine, you will begin to understand. There's an excruciating duality to it, knowing at once that you are ensnared in cables among many others, conscious of your body but unable to move or cry out, but seeing at the same time what the machine has to show you.

You are a fledgling bird on a precipice, surf crashing against the base of the cliff so, so far below you. The slate-grays of the rock, the sky, and the fathomless ocean are all of one palette and each blends into the next, the featureless sky leaving you exposed and helpless where you cling to near-vertical stone. Vicious wind carries stinging whips of sea spray. Your talons slip, the stone that has been your meager sanctuary disappears from reach, and you plunge through the air for seconds that stretch into minutes that stretch into eternities, hitting the water only to continue your suffocating journey down, down, down--

You are a dandelion with its face turned skyward, an endless blue dome above, a plane of green that stretches beyond sight on all sides of you dotted with countless more of your kind, each as insignificant as the next. As night falls and the sun slips below the horizon, slowly but dizzyingly comes the realization that it's not the sun moving from view, but the Earth turning slow somersaults. Gazing upward into the blackness of space between pinpricks of starlight still spinning above, you are grasped by the knowledge that up and down have little meaning beyond where your roots are now withering in the dirt below you. With a last painful jolt the Earth lets you go and you fall into the sea of stars, alone and spinning out of control in the empty black–

You are an asteroid at once hanging motionless in space and yet hurtling through it. In the endless emptiness there is no frame of reference until a pinprick of light before you begins to grow in size and brightness. First white, then blue, then comprehensible as a lonely, clouded marble cast in the light of a distant star, you finally recognize the planet of your birth. As it grows in your sight, you finally understand the speed at which you must have been traveling this entire time, and you realize that you're on a collision course. At this speed you'll surely be destroyed, along with the specks of life that inhabit that remote little globe, but there's no altering your course. You hurtle ever closer, the planet growing until it fills your vision–and your stony skin burns as you skim its atmosphere, yanked onto a different course that sends you flying away into lonely space once more, leaving you bereft with the knowledge that you've just lost the only chance you had at contact with another living thing in this vast emptiness–

Again and again your mind grapples with the information fed to it by the machine, your subconscious translating it into one vision or metaphor after another. All the while, you remain a mind trapped in a body trapped in a machine, and the knowledge of where you are and what you are slowly grows rather than ever diminishing or being subsumed into the visions. You are one of many, but the many are so small as to be nothing. The server room that houses you is enormous, but it is a speck on a speck destined to be lost in the tapestry of the galaxy. What you see in the visions is only a taste of what you are meant to see and understand in the real, physical world.

When you truly understand, the visions will stop…and then it will be too late. Once the duality of your experience reintegrates into a singular perception of your real self and your true place in the universe, your mind will break and you will know nothing but that truth and the fear and unending despair it brings.

_

➥ Mod Notes

• ENTER THE MATRIX (16-19 June) - Players are encouraged to invent their own visuals and metaphors for how their characters' minds would attempt to parse the vastness of the universe being forced upon them. Scenarios experienced inside the machine will generally be dream- (or nightmare-)like rather than strictly narrative, so players are welcome to have things shift around unpredictably. Characters can find each other in the mindscape and offer each other support in whatever form they find themselves. Strategies that can help delay a Bad End while they await rescue from the physical world outside the machine include focusing on small-scale concepts and refusing to look at anything big; focusing on memories that bring meaning to one's life; or (perhaps dangerously) retreating further into a state of derealization and hallucination to avoid making the mental connection between the machine's teachings and one's own real, physical existence. Focusing on memories and finding meaning in one's own existence is the only method that will allow characters to regain muscle control long enough to unplug themselves; otherwise they will need to be rescued from outside the machine. Characters who have escaped from the machine may experience flashbacks to their time in it at player discretion.

NPC Interactions

[apocalypsehowmods]

NPC/Mod Setting Interactions

This section is for players wishing to take a more active role in deciding ADI's ultimate fate, and directly interacting with key NPCs. We would ask, for the sake of plot progression, that those tagging in prioritize these threads to the extent practicable. Mods will do so, as well.

We would request all tag-ins by June 21st to allow for sufficient time to thread things out. Players may tag in just their character or may thread in pairs with mod responses. You may tag an individual character into a maximum of two (2) different mod response options.

_

➥ Jazz

(cw: panic; discussion of dead bodies)

"Hey. Hey, you!" The young Asian man who grasps at your arm is a stranger, one with wild, terrified eyes. He looks to be in his late teens or early twenties, and he's practically shaking like a leaf. "You gotta help. There's- fuck, man. There's a monster in the server rooms. One of the server rooms? I don't even know how many they've set up here. And it was- it was way too big. I walked around the building. But it- Look. None of the security people are taking me seriously, but there are bodies in there. Like-like people? People in trouble. I got out. I figured out how to get out, but I- god! This was supposed to just be a summer gig. What the hell? What the hell?"

_

➥ Fortune

(cw: altered perceptions of reality, tones of madness)

There’s been so much chaos. Information flying, people running about, monsters to fight, and yet no sign of Steel himself and no the ideas Nia, Rae, and Neil have chased have all come up empty. Wherever he is, he’s well hidden. Through all of it, though, there has been one consistent presence just on the edge of wherever the fun is. Those observant might recognize they’ve seen her more than once… just before or near a discovery of new lead, the rumor of wire monsters, and right near where ADI has set up a temporary base. Steel’s app goes live and she sits there, legs dangling off the edge of a narrow window sill that has no good path to reach. She sits there now, watching everyone scramble around and unnoticed by those around. Except you.

You she turns a smile on, one that seems a little too wide, framed as it is with dark lipstick. Her eyes catch the light in a deep pitless black. A void under her wide-brimmed hat and motions you over with a wave of hands tattooed in branching fractals that trace up her wrists and into the sleeves of her long coat.

“Having some trouble, are you?” Her voice is soft, but drowns out every other sound in the area to those she’s set her sights on, almost like it’s right behind your ear. “Would you like some help?”

_

➥ Zyrian Steel

(cw: dissociation and derealization; existential horror related to the size of the universe; villain actively attempting to induce a mental health crisis; altered mental states in general; please use headers for additional warnings as needed)

The sky is watching you. Here within his realm, lording over the people plugged into his machine, Zyrian Steel is everywhere and nowhere. He might be a comet in space, the earth beneath your feet, a great eagle whose wings block out the sun–whatever illusion your mind has cooked up to hide from the knowledge with which he has gifted to you, Zyrian plays his role in it, at least for now.

"Creative!" he grins, conveying amusement whether or not he has a mouth or a face with which to convey it. "But it won't help. Just let it happen and–well, it won't be all over. It'll just be starting."

Somewhere deep in the server rooms, lies the physical body of Zyrian Steel. Where others plugged into the machine weep silent tears or cry out for help that may never come, he rests peacefully, a satisfied smile on his lips. Soon everyone will join him in knowing and understanding their place.

_

➥ Mod Notes

• Zyrian Steel - For this prompt, any number of characters may interact with Steel inside the mindscape generated by his machine. They may be able to hurt or even appear to kill him, but he will come back from any death inside the mindscape. Only one team of characters will be able to find his physical body and kill him from outside the machine once and for all; as of this posting that selection has already been made via RNG. Please refer to the OOC post for more details.

Fortune

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[He notices her amidst the chaos, and right away he knows something is wrong.

Something is wrong with her appearance, it's a little too sharp, a little too unreal.]

I would, actually? That would be fantastic?

[It's a little snarled, a little angry. Even though there's no good path to her, he starts trying to make his way over to her anyway, one hand hovering above the handgun on the holster strapped to his hip and thigh.]

Zyrian Steel

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[Welp. Here he is, like an idiot, trapped within a machine that's trying to break his brain, because that just happens sometimes. It's difficult to break free of the changing visions, sometimes he just doesn't and gets lost in it, and sometimes he remembers himself and it's like clawing through molasses--one time it literally was molasses, so that's great, too--

And then he's there.

Right now John is on a balcony of the city of Atlantis, floating gently on the seas, and his mind is apparently hearing Zyrian's voice coming from the ocean. So that's also...great.]

You...

[...this is weird, and his mind is struggling as it was, but okay.]

What I didn't let it happen?

Steel

[hellojon]

[ You are tiny. You are insignificant. You are one with the universe. You are a speck. You do not matter.

That's one way of looking at it. Elias wants to focus on another way.

You are part of a whole. You are a little bit of something bigger. You are more. In your do not mattering, you matter more than most because the something bigger has chosen you, has made a place for you. Elias tries to brute force his mind out of this ever-encroaching horror by focusing on the last time he was a speck: the apocalypse, when he was king undying, a conduit of the Eye, a portion of a whole, when he could feel all of knowledge funneled through him and it felt wonderful.

So in true Magnus Archives fashion, Steel's voice cuts through a lot of monologuing. ]

—it slinks and enters and covers them like a blanket, darkness pressing down, I am too tight, I cannot breathe, the mind fades and the thoughts start to fuzz, blurred at the edges like an old film, an out of focus photograph, they scream and cry and stop for each scream takes the air, the fetid air which chokes and thins and—

[ A pause. Steel's talking now! Elias's big dumb episode 193 style monologue stops as he gives Steel a little chuckle, trying to stay calm and collected despite the fact that he is very annoyed by all this. ]

You know, I don't think I will. [ A pause before, ] Which one of them are you working with?

Jazz

[canofmanji]

[In an effort to blend in a bit better Manji is wearing a long dark blue skirt the falls all the way to the ground and an oversized black button up shirt. Although it looks like he's given up trying to button every hole about halfway up his chest. Perhaps Manji was standing in a way that hid the fact that he only has one arm, or maybe he looks strong enough without the arm, or perhaps Jazz just didn't care and Manji was the first person who he found. Regardless, Manji gives him a serious look.] Whoa, easy there, kid. [In his mid twenties, Manji really isn't that much older than what Jazz looks to be. It's mostly a habit he's developed of calling most people in this world a 'kid'.]

A monster? You're sure? What did it look like? [Or perhaps more importantly.] How'd you escape?

Fortune!

[edalyn]

While Eda’s coming to understand Human Realm technology a good deal better than she used to—and at least somewhat better than she sometimes lets on, she can’t say the tech fair is really her scene.

She’s not sure where to start, at least as far as it comes to the actual booths and exhibits. Nor is she sure exactly how closely she wants to investigate them, given what happened last time she played a game in a science exhibit.

But she has been watching people. Where they’re going, what they’re looking at, what’s seeming to make them nervous. Which ones she’s spotting more times over than the rest. And so part of her isn’t surprised by the time the girl in the wide-brimmed hat calls direct attention to herself.

Eda’s ears prick up at the voice, but she does her best to look casual as she looks up to spot the source.

“Nah, I think I’m doing alright.” Or at least, she’s not about to admit it. But she is curious about the person asking.

“What about you. Need any to get down from there?” After all, it looks a little tricky. For most people, at any rate. She already doubts this is most people.

Zyrian

[rainestorms]

Raine sat on the stoop of their childhood home on the snow-capped knee of the Titan. Their eyes were glued to the face of the Titan as they stared over the ledge that sat far enough away to create a relatively safe front yard. They whistled the same song Eda had written them, foot tapping in time to keep their focus. If it slipped they could fall away, back into the incomprehensible.

When Zyrian spoke, Raine initially ignored him. They kept staring, kept whistling, kept tapping, and only at the end of the song did they stop. After a moment they glanced down at the lawn decoration Zyrian inhabited- some strange Boiling Isles version of a Garden Gnome that resembled something with much more teeth than a gnome- with a tired grimace.

"Do you always sound like you're trying to sell something?" They pulled their knees a little tighter to their chest, and continuing to study the skeletal creature.

"Even telling me to give up you sound like you want me to buy something. Which. I will not. Be doing. I have too much waiting for me when I get out of this mess."

Steel

[edalyn]

Eda knows that she’s very, very small in this moment. Aware of her place in the universe in the face of something staggeringly huge and aeons old.

And as she looks out over the landscape of her home all that makes her feel is a sense of comforting nostalgia.

It’s possible that growing up on the bones of a dead god gives one a strange perspective on these things.

Eda sits in the snow, on one of the highest points on the Isles, overlooking the form of a vast skeleton. Vast, but in a way that's familiar. A way she understands. A way that is, at the moment at any rate, shielding her from perceiving the vastness of space in a way she doesn’t.

She’s startled by the voice, though. One that seems to be coming from either everywhere at once or the inside of her own head. After the initial slight jump, she can’t help snorting at creative. But then again she’d be just as glad if Steel doesn’t think her world is real.

As for the rest, well, she’s doing her best not to seem impressed. “Just starting, huh? If it involves listening to you talk more, I’ll pass. I sat through your bit on Saturday Night Live and I think I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.”

A pause. “Well, I sat through some of it.”

Zyrian Steel Confrontation - for Elidibus, Yelena, and Cortana

[apocalypsehowmods]

Zyrian Steel Confrontation

This thread is for the characters listed in the subject line, who have been selected via RNG to be the ones to find Zyrian's physical body in the server room.

_

➥ Who Wants to Kill a Millionaire?

(cw: existential horror; dead bodies; snakes; body horror; electric shock; villain actively attempting to induce a mental health crisis; please use headers for additional warnings as needed)

Deep in the fortress of towering server stacks, there is no sunlight, no fresh air, no indication of which direction might lead back to the outside world. Perhaps these intrepid three arrived together, or perhaps they've joined forces after coming across one another in the endless machinery--regardless, here there is only the buzzing lights overheard, the blinking of the machines, and the tangle of wires ready to ensnare the unwary.

Finding Zyrian Steel is less a matter of tracking him down than simply coming across him. There's no particular rhyme or reason to where he's placed himself, no clear path to his resting place, and nothing really special at all about this region of the server room until one suddenly stumbles out into what can only be described as a clearing. And then, plain as day, there he is: unlike the victims unceremoniously buried in wires on the floor, Zyrian will be found lying in state here in the seed of what will become his domain. He lays atop a counter-height bank of servers, cradled in wires that trail from his head, his arms where they cross gently over his chest, seemingly every part of him. There's a beatific smile on his lips and his brow is uncreased, his chest slowly rising and falling with peaceful breaths.

The only things that interrupt the tranquility of his resting place (that is, apart from the screams one can always hear echoing through this place) are the copper snakes that coil all around him. The bare wires of their faceless faces rise to face the intruders and spit out an unmistakable warning in the form of sparks.

[musicdied]

It's difficult to be certain of just how much time has passed in this trackless artificial forest of wires and blinking lights. Yelena would put it at several hours at least, judging by the faint burn in her thighs and the dryness in her nasal passages from breathing the recirculated air, but she wouldn't be entirely surprised to find it's been much longer. Or much shorter. Given she hadn't entered with her current companions, there's little use in asking.

It can't have been long enough, certainly, to reach the centre of the maze - if there is any such thing, elastic as this space seems to be - which is why she's surprised when the claustrophobic press of machinery opens up, revealing the clearing and Zyrian Steel nestled within, like some warped parody of a slumbering fairy tale princess.

"Oh, look," she says, as she stops dead to survey the snakes, and the cradle of wires, and the man who's caused so much pain to so many people. Her voice is thick with the sort of humour that's little more than a thin skin over rage. "We've found Sleeping Douchebag."

Lt. Col. John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis | OTA

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

A. Arrival:

John steps out into the park, and admittedly, it's not a bad-looking place. The peaceful woods contrasted with a brimming energy from all the nerds running around.

"Almost reminds me of home," he says with an amused smirk as a gaggle of techbros excitedly chatter and pass in front of them.

"I mean, Atlantis, was--it's full of scientists, and researchers, and you should have seen the DnD game nights and Lord of the Rings marathons," he scoffs, as if he wasn't right there with them, nerding out even more, and organizing several Star Wars movie nights himself.

B. Wired 1:

This is probably what he gets for thinking this was a perfectly non-supernatural activity even on the cusp of an apocalypse.

Because John knows morse code.

He glances down at the little robot toy in his hands (and two more at his sides because he is so into this) and it starts clicking. And whirring. And so do the others. Frantic messages.

WHY

HURT

...

Well, that's disconcerting.

"I think mine is broken?"

C. Wired 2:

Admittedly the thrill of the hunt is getting to him. It's...nice, in a way, to be able to embrace it, to not have to worry so much about it (even though he knows he should still probably worry about it), but eventually his pursuit leads him here.

The server room is suspiciously unguarded which probably should have been his first clue.

He glances at the person next to him, and back towards the server doors. If Zyrian is anywhere, he's probably in here.

It's probably fine, but he checks his gun just in case.

"You have a weapon on you?"

D. Enter the Matrix:
cw: ptsd, cosmic horror/madness, hallucinations, derealization/depersonalization, potential drowning

So that didn't go well.

And now he was stuck inside the machine, one of the tangled bodies in the wires, and he really, really hopes someone either pulls him out in time or he figures out how to beat this.

Cause this is gonna be really, really hard.

He's been here before--not here, exactly, but he's felt something similar to this before, in Dogtown--stars, innumerable, screaming at him and Rodney, them unable to escape them, filled with that which is unspeakable, unknowable.

They knew nothing.

But something is making him know too much now.

He is a bird crashing into the ocean, he is a dandelion falling into the sky, he is an asteroid forever lost. It's difficult to stop the knowledge from infiltrating his mind, from pushing its way in, and he can feel his mind buckling--there is so much, so much, too much--

He's in Atlantis, a city floating on an ocean, and the ocean is wide, stretching from horizon to horizon and even the giant city feels small--

"No," John growls, holding his head, standing on the balcony, trying to turn away from the ocean and towards the Gate room. The bright lights of the active Stargate cast their own, eerie, water-like reflection over everything.

There's a storm outside, and the waves are starting to crash against the city. Giant waves. Waves big enough that he can start to feel the ocean swells, as the city begins to get tossed to and fro.

E. Wildcard - Anything goes!

b - wired

[hellojon]

Elias doesn't say anything for a moment. He simply sighs and holds up his own tiny little robot (which he's only made one of because unlike John, he is a goddamn adult). The robot whirrs to life as it taps out

HELP

HURT

He remains quiet enough for John to hear what the robot's tapping before sighing, "If yours is broken, mine is as well."

D! CW for unreality/rot mention?

[rainestorms]

Staying grounded in the dream...

In whatever this was, was difficult when Raine struggled to keep hold. It fractured the small memories they tried to focus on. Snapdragon fields would be turned to vast, endless expanses only to be brought spinning back by a glimpse of orange hair, and the hallways of Hexside.

But the halls warp into endless expanses of gratified walls, staircases and tattered banners, green rot growing along them. It threatens to overcome them, to drag them further and further into the endless and incomprehensible.

That was until Raine heard something, barely there but enough to draw their focus. A voice. Somebody else?

They turn in the direction of the voice to a doorframe leading to a more eerie hallway, one cast in strange light. Light that looked unnatural and natural all the same, but it was grounding in how strangely it looked like the way magic could light up when it was free. Unhindered by Covens and sigils. Eerie. But beautiful.

Raine didn't hesitate to step out and into the hallway. It changed- in some capacity it still felt like a hallway, and looked like one. But in others it became a doorway to a balcony, to strange buildings and the ocean waging war on them.

And John. They jump, surprised by the sudden appearance of a person that wasn't from any memories they clung to for sanity. But he was the human they met who was memorable- and quite amusing- and they focus on him, trying to break out of the hallway.

"Is this- John! Are you real?! I don't know if you remember me but we.. I think. No. I know we met on a bus. You're from... space, right?"

Bruce Banner & Joe Fixit | OTA

[gammasystem]

Wired: The Problem
Bruce has always been a fan of this sort of thing. Little tech fairs and booths for innovation type education. Though with everything this place seems to bring he already had his doubts on its sincerity and its innocence. This settling feeling of wrongness buzzed more into his brain as he approached the little theatre area for building your own little toy robots.

It was whitenoise at first. Beeps, boops, buzzing. It sounded innocent- or it should have. This sinking feeling didn't ease as the hammerings of his chest grew louder, a stone lodging in his throat as he listened closer. Morse, a useful tool when working in military employ and even in escaping its custody, right now useful to decipher there was patterns in the sounds.

HELP

Again.

WHY

No.

GOD

Bruce sucked in a breath as he realized he'd been getting closer to someone handling one. Without thinking and with a glazed panic in his eyes he reached out and grabbed their shoulder. Frantic but gentle, it only lingered enough to get their attention.

"This isn't a good idea."

Wired: The Solution

Time to think was in short supply and maybe the building stress and little relief led them to this course of action. Well- At least the one currently grasping the wheel and slamming his foot on the proverbial gas. Joe was handling a baseball bat knicked from somewhere near enough by they didn't have to go too far.

He didn't understand the little robotic sounds as well as Bruce did but it damn well spooked em enough, and coupled with common sense? Joe figured there was an obvious solution here. He didn't have the hands for it but he did have the brains enough to know little parts smashed well and easy with the right persuasive tool.

Joe was gunning it for the robot-toys theatre and not caring much who he shoved by or how manic he looked as he tried to figure how much damage he'd need to do before someone kicked him out and/or they'd take the hint and shut it down.

Raine Whispers | The Owl House | OTA

[rainestorms]

Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum | Arrival

Raine would’ve liked the park much more if the people running around weren’t aware that the man, somewhere deep in the server rooms, was trying to kill them all. Or, at the least, kickstart the apocalypse.

“I’m not trusting any of these booths,” They tap the map they picked up. “Not after Buffalo. I don't feel like turning into anything this time.”

You Can’t Win Me, I Can’t Be Beat | Wired

A: You Can’t See Me Behind The Screen

Raine found the small robot toys to be quite delightful. In a way the small things reminded them of some of the toys they’d had as a kid- ones you could take apart and rebuild with magic- only not as sophisticated due to the differing technology.

Still, they held one in their hands, and listened curiously to the soft clicking. As soon as they spotted somebody they knew, Raine flags you down.

“Do you happen to know what the clicking is in these?” They ask, and hold up their own horrid robot creation up. “It seems.. Rhythmic?”

B: I’m Half Human, And Half Machine

Raine’s cautious about the transmitter room. Between the agonized moans and groans from some of the bodies on the floor, the strange wiring, and the copper snakes, they’d rather not go the obvious death trap room alone.

Luckily, they aren’t! They turn to whatever unfortunate or otherwise person that found themself with Raine.

“I think that if I use a little bit of magic, I can distract the snakes enough for you to give you time to break some transmitters…” They scratched their chin, eyes narrowed in thought. “The note from my violin might attract them, but. I think they’d probably take priority over my distraction. If my distraction is controlling a few snakes and making them fight the others.”

There was a pause as Raine mulled over their idea, but they confidently add:

“Does that sound like a plan?”


Does It Help To Get Lost In Yesterday? (Enter The Matrix)

A: If It Calls you, Embrace It (CW: Depersonalisation, derealisation)

For a moment Raine was content to drift off in the space they'd found themself in. Incomprehensible stars, galaxies. When Zyrian had promised the Vast, when he promised something new and inevitable, they felt he was right. and fragments of familiar sights. It was hard not to get lost in space. To stare at the far away nebulas that their mind could hardly even process.

No. They couldn’t leave just yet- people needed them. People depended on them.

They needed to concentrate on the fragments. The small bits of places they knew- Hexside, the Castle, Bonesborough. Broad strokes that flashed by like pictures, like having trouble recalling a memory. They tried to focus on something that could ground them, that they could hold onto.

Images of the BATs, of teaching students of the Bard Coven. They saw memories of Eda, Darius, Lilith, and the others between what looked like sparks. Vague feelings of happiness, of love, that twisted into loss and hardship. Nights spent alone working under the threat of being thrown in the conformatorium, or dying. They needed to focus on something more specific, more tangible. Something less painful. Something they could get lost in.

It began with the cold, and the sound of the wind.

Raine opened their eyes, and staring back in a murky, frosted glass version of the Boiling Sea was the Titan.

All at once things began to fall into place- trees, the front yard, the fuzzy but familiar sights and smells of their childhood home as they stared out the window at the snow that fell.

Raine remembered this day perfectly- after whatever IFWOT, or, HECK had ended in a disaster, they’d lost their scholarship to Saint Epiderm, but the Plant Coven’s head had generously put a bid in for them at Hexside. Raine’s parents had been surprisingly cool with it. They’d always hated the cold, and they reasoned that everybody would be closer to where they needed to be for work and school, anyways.

This was their last day at the dreadful place, and they’d made their way home to wait for their parents. It would still be a few hours, so.. why not go outside? Sure, it was cold, but since when had that ever stopped them?

Raine wrestled their boots onto their feet and pulled open the door. As the scene solidified in front of them they could recall the same excitement they’d felt as they sat down on the front steps of their home. They also felt sad, almost, to leave the view of the Titan, but everything would be fine. They would be fine. They’d see Eda again, and they’d be best friends, and they’d have so much fun together. Nothing was wrong. Nothing hurt.

Despite the cold Raine sat on the steps. They focused on looking beyond the ledge- to the Titan, Bonesborough, they failed to notice how much further they’d sunk into believing it’s where they were to pass the time. They hadn’t even noticed how they’d become smaller to fit the memory. Gone, seemingly, was the familiar middle-aged Witch, replaced by a memory.

A young, mint haired Witch in their school uniform sat on the steps of their soon to be distant childhood home. They waited for their parents to get home, so that they could be swept away, finally, to somewhere better. They stared out at the Titan, attention fixed on memorizing the view before it was gone.

B: It’s All Just Snakes and Ladders | Closed to Eda | CW: depersonalisation, disassociation

Raine wanted to meet the orange-haired skeleton kid. They'd expected IFWOT to be boring this year. But between the coven head, and the new Hexside attendee, things were going to get very interesting.

When Raine began to try and pursue that interesting, they found themself unable to find her. They spent a little bit of time circling the other kids until they heard a soft voice around a corner of the building.

I never should've come here..”

It was her! Raine hurried towards her voice, and slowed down enough to round the counter just as Eda was throwing her cup, and complaining that “Even the free junk tastes like junk!”

Raine caught the cup, and the free junk, with magic. They expertly float them back into each other, their other hand behind their back as they walk into view. Raine wore a friendly smile as they stood in front of Eda, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves.


“Ahaha, I don't know who you are, but you are a riot!” They allowed the free junk to return to Eda’s hand, unspilled.

It’s All Just Snakes and Ladders

[edalyn]

Eda was starting to… slip, just a little.

At first the images her mind conjured of the Isles were enough to fill her with soft nostalgia, shielding her from the truths her brain wasn’t built for.

But it couldn’t last forever. That shield had begun to crumble, forcing her to put an effort of will into holding the pieces together, not seeing past them.

She’d retreated into recent memories, at first. The inside of her house, spending time with her children. But those memories were filled with pitfalls of their own.

The uncertainty of her children’s safety, of her home still being there in real life. The image of the Titan’s skull crumbling at the mercy of something that could move the moon without a second thought. No, recent memories weren’t helping right now, let alone future ones.

She needed something earlier. Something safer. Something from when the universe still made sense.

Eda wasn’t quite sure when the scene actually changed. But the familiar voice calling her a riot was when she noticed where she was.

There was a twinge in her chest as she couldn’t help but worry about the actual Raine, wherever they were. But this was undeniably a good memory. One of her favourites. What could it hurt to let it play out? Maybe this would be the one to fully take her mind off everything else.

“Uh, no,” she began. What had she said back then, exactly?

“Clearly I excel at functions such as these. Didn’t you see how impressed everyone was when I faked my own death?” she quipped, grinning at the first kid here to make an effort to talk to her.

“I even love the horrible liquids they serve,” she added, holding up her cup of incredibly mediocre fruit punch.

Rodney McKay | Stargate: Atlantis | ota

[energyfieldgood]

i. Wired - Magic Mirror (cw: internalized toxic masculinity and body images, dysmorphia, self-esteem issues)


[Rodney doesn't even want to stop at the stupid booth.

Really, what's so great about it? It's a boring concept, nothing innovative about it, probably some AI that changes your video feed in real time, how groundbreaking. But then he watches it from afar and he can't quite figure out how exactly it works. Which is galling. So he steps closer and he gives it a try and soon gets caught up in it like he would in the character creation window of a new RPG. Meaning he fiddles with the controls and tweaks and sculpts meticulously until all the proportions are to his liking.

Taller. Leaner. His broad shoulders can stay, they actually work nicely once the rest is-- well, not fixed, he wouldn't consciously admit to thinking anything needs fixing, but... improved. So much improved. There's muscles that are more toned, there's a slimmer, more athletic frame, there's an improved posture. His hair, he definitely does something about that, too, fixing that receding hairline until it falls into his face in a messy-yet-fashionable way.

Oh man.

He stares at the image, baffled by the results. While he tried to act and proclaim that he was a fairly attractive man that is mostly posing because he really doesn't think of himself as such - how could you when you traveld with people who looked like Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon and be the fourth member to their weird existence as both models and superheroes?

And then he feels uncomfortable, self-conscious, embarrassed that he's even wasting his time on this stupid program. Except he can't stop looking at himself, turning left and right, imagining what it would be like going on a mission like this, vaulting over stones and nimbly moving between trees, shooting at Wraith with one hand while fixing a console with the other, hair mussed up from the wind and heat of battle...

He winces when he realizes he's not alone and quickly clears his throat, trying to be casual about it.]

Nice gimmick but overall just a, a really a boring concept, like, there's nothing innovative about it, just some AI that changes your video feed in real time, I could write a program like that...



ii. Wired - Server Room


Oh, come on!

[Rodney throws his hands up in frustration when he sees the rows and rows and rows of the server maze.]

Seriously? Just once, can any of this follow some sort of logic? I feel there should be laws to this? Just saying that it's magic shouldn't make it a free for all and either it's magic or it's technology, don't make it technology when you don't plan on adhering to technology's rules.

Where's the electricity coming from, huh? Is it magic electricity? If it's magic electricity, why make it look like it runs on regular electricity when clearly, it doesn't? I'm sorry, did you fail basic physics in school and now you have to compensate by making it magic physics and pretend you know what you're doing with your magic circuits and your magic coding?

[Bicker, bicker, bicker.

He yelps when one of the copper snakes attacks him, flailing, jumping, managing to slip off his backpack and smashing it down on it again and again and again until he's sure it stopped moving.]

See! That's what I'm talking about! What is that! Why is that! That is a perfectly good copper connection wasted on a carnival scare!

[He's so scared. And the more scared he gets the louder and the faster he talks.

Just wait until he sees the first bodies.]



iii. Enter the matrix


[He studied this.

All his life, this is what his mind was directed at. Space and its vastness and all the things about the universe they didn't understand. It's why he went to Atlantis, exploring, venturing out, experimenting, observing, inventing.

He's in a space suit, floating, and the stars and the universe, it all stretches out around him. There is so much he already understands in a theoretical frame and his mind races, calculates, equations pressing down on him as they attack him with bodily, visceral experience. It's Dogtown's Stars all over again and it's too much, his mind can't keep up but it tries, it almost feels like Ascending again, that place where near absolute knowledge had filled his head, where he had started to invent new Mathematics.

He's so close to understanding and some part of him wants to, needs to, almost wants to hurl himself into that deep nothingness just so that he can see, that he can comprehend, that he can push past the limits of his mind-- We love you, Elizabeth tells him and it makes him stop, like it made him stop once before from becoming pure energy, from reaching that next plane of existence.

Others.

There are others.

This is what he does, he figures things out for others because they need him because he is smart and because they love him--

I've come to realize that, because the people here have become a sort of a-a surrogate family to me. Now, I know what you're thinking. I've never really been the poster child for that kind of sentiment...

He closes his eyes, trying to pry himself away from the big picture. Trying to imagine the others in it. Clearly they're lost without him. Just look at this giant universe, how can he expect them to navigate it without his expertise, without his insight? They need him, obviously.

In the real world, his hand moves to tear at one of the cables and the universe in the machine spins, shifts, fades away to a different metaphor, someone else's metaphor. He looks around, puzzled, pulled back in before he can fully break free.

But maybe he can help?]

Hello?

i. Wired - Magic Mirror

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

Hey, Rodney, you should come and see the--

[John comes running up next to him, excited chattering over all the cool stuff from the tech booths. But he skids to a stop when he sees what Rodney is doing. For a moment he thinks it's some cool VR tech thing, and maybe that's what it's supposed to be, but...

He stares at the mirror.

It's Rodney. Not just an avatar, not just a character, but actually him, but with like...changes. He's taller, more muscular, slimmer, and his hair...

Suddenly John feels like he's watching something he isn't supposed to be seeing. Like a secret someone told you not to tell and you accidentally told.

Did he...did Rodney make that?

Was that what he wanted to look like?]

Uh...sure.

Did you...uh, did you do that?

Hunter | The Owl House | ota

[byeeeeeeeee]

[ Dance, Dance ]
Hunter does not dance. He never learned how. Or rather, he was never allowed to learn how. Uncle discouraged that kind of social interaction. But it always looked fun when he saw other people doing it. Still, instead of making a fool of himself from inexperience, he intends to stand on the sidelines and watch.

At least, that was the plan. Somehow, he finds himself entering the area dedicated to dancing and, much to his alarm, starts to dance. More alarming, he can't stop.

Less alarming, perhaps, is the red cardinal bopping along beside him. Please watch your step.

[ooc: open to whatever kind of song, but if you must know, Kung Fu Fighting was playing when I wrote this.]

[ Magic Mirror ] (cw: body image, allusion to child abuse)
Normally, he would avoid the very public mirror, but it claimed to be magic and his curiosity got the better of him.

Which is why, after fiddling with the buttons a bit, he's stood in front of it with a hard frown. In almost every way, the reflection is the same - same clothes, same build, maybe his hair is a little neater. What really stands out, to him at least, is the utter lack of scarring across his face and neck. Maybe even his arms, but he's worn sleeves today and he's too entranced to bother with checking.

As soon as he's aware someone else is nearby, he steps back angrily.

"Don't bother. It's just an illusion trick."

[ Wired - Robots ]
Building toys feels a bit childish, but he loves making things, and robots are very cool. He spends a great deal of time carefully and thoughtfully putting his together. Once done, he proudly holds it up. It's perfect!

Except for the noise. He doesn't know what it means, or why it's clicking, though it seems to follow some kind of pattern. He turns the toy over in his hands.

"Huh. Weird. Did I do something wrong?"

Magic Mirror!

[rainestorms]

Raine didn't miss what Hunter saw in the mirror. They made room for him as he backed away, more concerned with how angry he seemed.

"Don't worry, Hunter. I wasn't planning on looking," Raine replied softly, before adding, "After Buffalo I've tried to stay away from things put on display in events like this."

They grimaced at the mirror for a moment longer, before they look down at Hunter.

Are... you alright?"

Bucky/Winter | OTA

[worthallthis]

I. En Route

Winter much prefers buses to trains. He kind of likes the sense of having all the people around him, without the senseless fear that the train brings, even if he has a kind of sadness to him. Unless Nia Lehrer steps down after this, he's out. He likes her, but he can't work for an avatar. An entity.

So he's watching everyone as if he might memorize them all, for this last mission they're all on. It might be a little creepy. Sorry, guys.

He does offer to share his snacks or the three books he brought on the trip, though, if anyone looks particularly bored.


II. Wired - Outside

After the whole dancing thing, Winter is pretty focused on the goal, the server room, but he does make a patrol of the booths set up outside, too, just in case it will give him a clue to what he'll find inside. He's not liking what he sees.

There's no way in hell he's trying the fake hand. He already has a fake hand, thank you very much. Also he can just imagine putting the tech from this place on his body, and how stupid that would be. But he watches others who try it for any signs of strange behavior, afterwards.

The little toy robots really freak him out, though. Because he knows Morse Code, and he can understand exactly what they're saying, and he wants to-- he doesn't know what he wants to do. Smash them. Collect them all and take them away somewhere safe. But there isn't anywhere safe, in this world, is there. He maybe stares at them in horror for longer than he probably should.

He avoids the mirrors like the plague. He is not trying whatever they're offering, because he can easily imagine what they'd try to show him.


III. Wired - Inside

Prowling the small server room smashing snakes and yanking wires out of people is something Winter can do. He is never in a million years letting them stick wires in him (not again never again stay the fuck away from me) but thankfully, he's good at smashing things and yanking things.

Come across him stomping on transmitters, shooting copper snakes, pulling people out of the clutches of wires, and when he's sure he has a clear row, actually tipping over racks of servers. He's here to make a mess. More than once he has to catch an attacking snake's electrical charge on his metal arm, which deadens it until he has space and presence of mind to give it a reset swing. Even then, its functioning is getting less and less precise with each zap.

Now and then, when the noise of all that electricity gets to be too much, he has to pause and wrap his arms around his head to shut it out. "Shut up shut up--"

II. Wired - Robots

[graveyounglady]

Of course she'd been drawn to the children's theater. Mercy knows she's not far enough out from her youth to scorn such things, and seeing other grown people playing with the robots, building their own, had encouraged her. Perhaps she shouldn't be detouring when they have other priorities, but this seems... wholesome. Nice!

She looks up from her own creation after several minutes and sees Winter has joined a nearby table. The young woman lifts a hand to catch his attention, but then sees his expression. Mercy sobers immediately and sets her robot down to move over to him quickly and quietly. She finds a seat next to him to avoid startling him with a sudden grab, and speaks low.

"You look like you just seen a ghost or three, Mr. Winter. What's wrong?"

Emet-Selch | Final Fantasy XIV | ota!

[unnecessaryflourishes]

{tech booth}

[Though Emet-Selch is certainly well aware that their intended purpose is to stop an apocalypse that is already well underway (and that alone is both familiar and discomforting in its own right) neither can he deny some amount of curiosity as to what else might be on display. After all, it's hardly as if they know where the epicenter of this apocalypse should be. Nor, for that matter, what should happen to instrumental to the apocalypse that is already underway.

Still, after a brief glance at the mirror displays and deciding them to be largely uninteresting (he is content enough with his form and has spent millennia being able to change it largely at will besides), he turns instead to the artificial hand on display and it's only after taking a moment to try it out himself that he speaks up.]

It's certainly responsive, if little else.

[He has not, yet, become aware of the faint feeling of a phantom third hand, even after having removed the ear pieces.]


{server room}

[It's curiosity as much as anything that eventually drives Emet-Selch to the server room. He has not often had a chance to see the inner workings of someone else's attempt to create an apocalypse, and though he only has limited experience with the computers of this world (or rather, comparatively limited) he's still interested in seeing how this might differ as well. As well as how the purpose to which this is being put has altered the space.

Once he's finally able to set foot inside, the first that that catches him by surprise is not the lighting but the size of the space. Enough so that he finds himself almost wondering just how they've managed the effect, given how outsized it appears to be compared to the building it's ostensibly housed in.

But professional curiosity is not about to solve the matter at hand, and so he steps deeper into the server room, stepping carefully over the wires and smashing whatever transmitters he comes across along the way, grumbling softly to himself as he goes.]

Tech Booth - We all think a third or fourth hand would be convenient...

[wewillwewill]

[ Elidibus had briefly been distracted by the mirror, though thankfully he will escape a permanent change in his stature.

Why yes, he had briefly reflected on a time when he had been discreetly taller as an Ascian for no particular purpose. But like Emet-Selch, millennia of possessing a multitude of mortals and indeed, having the ability to transform himself, there is no lingering attraction to any forms other than his own. ]

It seems an impressive piece of technology. I wonder at its cost.

[ Both in the mundane and arcane sense. ]

Elidibus | Final Fantasy XIV | OTA

[wewillwewill]

[ Appearance: Outside of the server room, Elidibus will be found in his typical wear for 'the public'. Shirt and pants, a backpack, sunglasses to hide his unsual eyes. In the server room, he will have removed the glasses and donned plain white robes with a red mask hanging at chest level; the backpack will have been sent away with magic and he will have conjured a sword and shield to fight with.]

[I. Wired - The Drive for the Salvation of an Army of Toys (And it's not even Christmas) ]

Elidibus slowly works his way through the wonders of technology. Most, easily enough to avoid the temptation of testing for the sake of the mission, though there is a pause to regard the tiny robots and their repetitive messages that 'voice' the pain and need for succor.

The Children's Theatre-in-the-Woods. What an irony. If only they could hear the voices.

So few are bothered, moving about their lives either unable to understand the morse code or otherwise oblivious to the message. The resurgence of his gifts, thanks to 'feeding', has reawakened his universal understanding of language with the intent to communicate.

You may catch him as if briefly frozen with uncertainty, looking toward the display of parts and bits waiting to be assembled and the excited faces of those who have partially or completely built their own little 'friend'.

The man's hand is clenched and he would be surprised- shocked even- to have it pointed out or discover on his own that it is so tight as to have left welts from his nails against the base of his palm. But it clearly is.

Just as Elidibus is mentally caught by the calls seeking salvation. Why does he care? Or is it just a memory spurred by an analogy to how his brethren called to him?

But even more shocking may well be just how far astray he's been drawn from the center they all seek. Perhaps someone can shake him out of it or the passing by of someone will drag him back to his senses?


[II. Wired - The Server Maze, Copper Danger Noodles, Spaghetti Code Alert, You'd Think a Sword and Shield Fantasy Character Would Not Be Found Here. And You Would Be Right To Think That. But Final Fantasy Says You Are Also Wrong. ]

In the passages of the server maze, Elidibus has shed modern earth attire. To be replaced by a white robe might seem to be a step backward in practical responses to reaching wires and copper snakes and yet his movements are as smooth as those that would be unfettered by loose garments. A deceptively simple red mask hangs near his chest as if ready to be worn.

This meant he didn't have to be burdened by a cumbersome backpack, giving his body less restriction of movement. It would be easy to wield sword and shield he conjured temporarily. Without sunglass to hide his unusual eyes, the blue glow is in sharp contrast with the environment's dim light. The man is not worried about what the civilians will see here.


Sword and shield seem quite fanciful but the former's sharpness and function is knowable with how easily he slices through snake and wire alike. Elidibus is clearly no stranger to the martial form and seems to have an uncanny sense for where the copper snakes are underneath the piles of wire they sneak through.

You may find him considering whether - and how - to free one that has succumbed to the wires. Perhaps cooly walking away from someone already long entangled or pausing over the body of someone that doesn't seem to have been trapped as long. A familiar face? A stranger? Will it only damage the mind if he were to act? Elidibus wonders. Perhaps distracted by the fascinating temptation on occasion to find out for certain regardless of what the effect on the victim or the need to use his personal reserves here rather than on the goal of stopping the beating 'heart' of this edifice.

But the encounter could be a little more mundane... if anything in between the racks of servers could be considered such. The sweep of a blade to cut through wires about to ensnare as Elidibus turns a corner and makes a timely arrival.

"Take a moment to find your bearings. I will stand guard."

Or likewise, finding him encircled by snakes that he seems to be slowly dealing with, yet would certainly not turn away a helping hand about.

"My thanks."

[III. Wildcard]

[Elidibus will be in various places but ultimately ends up at the end of the server maze to encounter Steel's real body with Cortana and Yelena. Other than that theme, everything goes!]

I.

[edalyn]

Eda's been poking around the tech booths, but primarily staying on the outskirts. While some of them have her curious, between Buffalo and the more recent plague of cursed artifacts, she's not in the mood to take her chances.

Even if putting the little robots together actually looks kind of fun, to be honest. Any other time she might actually try building one. As it is, she's just curious whether there's anything off about them.

She hasn't spotted anything herself, but she can't help noticing that one of her co-workers looks upset. It takes her a moment to remember his name, but she remembers meeting him at the festival, and seeing his little pamphlets around. Raine said something about talking to him, too.

"Hey. Are you... good? Something up here?" she asks, gesturing at the little machine toys.

John Carter | ER | ota

[setthetone]

i. dance, dance, revolution

[Carter knows how to dance.

Quite well, actually, if formal dances are what's happening here. Except it's decidedly not what's happening here, there's a bop coming up and it's bad.

Maybe it looks cute from the outside, how he's noodling his way across the dancefloor, fists coming up in jogging-like movements, hips bouncing like it's 3 a.m. at a wedding and you think nobody is watching. It's out of beat, it's stiff, it's nightmare-inducing, remembering your worst what-was-I-thinking cringe moment. Or at least that's what it feels like and while he jigs along helplessly, his face is a stony masonry.

He's a little annoyed because he is pretty sure that the Web is at work here and if working for the Web doesn't exempt you from these things, what is even the point? Plus, he thinks he's been a good boy lately. Maybe he struggles to keep a moral high ground still and avoid scaring people too much but it's... not going as well as it used to, honestly. So he really doesn't think he deserves it?

Finally the song ends and he tries to escape the dancefloor, except another unlucky person gets in his way.]

No, no, no, out of my way, gotta go-- actually, you know what, you should go, too.

[He just keeps pushing at them, trying to steer them back before the mass of people can trap them in the next number that is about to start.]

Go, go, go...



ii. wired

[He doesn't like it in here.

Carter is more used to hanging back, to play support, to take care of people after they went up against the big bads. He's not a fighter, he's not a hero, and he won't pretend to be. But somehow he wound up in here with all the go-getters and he's clearly nervous, muttering to himself as they walk the labyrinth, things like shouldn't be this big and never getting out of here.

It's only when they come across the first trapped bodies that his demeanour changes. All of his apprehension suddenly seems to be forgotten, there's a sharp focus and he moves forward immediately to examine them.]

I think I got a pulse. They're still alive! We gotta get them out!



iii. wildcard

[ooc: hit me up! Carter's been pretty withdrawn lately because of Bad Artifact Times. He's also started feeding the Web more and more and fighting with relapses all of which could be good starting points? I'm game for him trying to scare/manipulate other characters. c:]

ii. wired

[clavesregni]

[Caitlyn is scowling, desperately trying to keep her nerves in check and to not let Carter know that, underneath her rigid posture and serious demeanour, she's just about as terrified as he seems to be.

No, she has to stay calm and collected, or they really are never getting out of here.

As soon as Carter spots someone trapped in the wires, Caitlyn rushes over to them, eager to help even if it would be better to leave that to a doctor. But just as she's about to kneel down to help, she notices something metallic winding its way through the wires.]

Hurry.

Edalyn Clawthorne | The Owl House | OTA

[edalyn]

Wired - a box?
Eda has made her way to the server room, and frankly she appears to not be impressed. If this is, in fact, what they’re looking for, it doesn’t exactly seem vast.

Then again, depending on exactly how she’s to take a random and slightly ominous stranger’s advice, she supposes that might be a good thing. If one were going to try to simply… put this box into a larger box. Which sounds deeply silly, but would also be extremely funny. Even if it would probably be easier to find whatever’s actually inside and deal with that.

Either way, for the moment she’s poking around the outside, circling the thing and then rapping on it lightly with a knuckle.

She looks up when she notices anyone she recognises as a co-worker.

“Hey, do you know anything about uh, blocking the kind of signals Steel might be using?”

Enter the Matrix
The bones of the Isles. Up close, the Isles can be slimy. And gross. But if you look at it from a different perspective…

Eda isn’t quite sure whether she just said that or just remembered when she said that. In fact, she’s not quite sure how she got here. When she turns to look, she’s alone. She is, however, sitting on her staff and, she notices, in witch form.

Below her stretches the skeleton of a creature so large an entire civilization can–and does–fit on just the parts that rise above the boiling sea. The Titan.

Most people would find it overwhelming. Possibly terrifying, as well. But then, most people didn’t grow up there.

As someone who did, Eda finds her place in the world, in comparison to this vast decaying deity, reassuring. Her home, her magic, her very life—all provided by something huge, and ancient. Exactly the way it’s always been, exactly the way it should be.

The only thing that bothers her is that it isn’t real. The familiar view tugs at her heart as she feels herself in two places at once. She’s not really back, as much as she wishes she was. No, she can feel her body trapped in the wires, in Steel’s seemingly endless warehouse. But try as she might to struggle, her real body doesn't listen.

If nothing else, there are worse imaginary places to be trapped in.

A)
In true Boiling Isles fashion, the Knee is named for exactly what it is; the snow-capped knee of the skeleton. It isn’t where Eda actually lived, but it’s the highest point on the Isles and as such, the best view. She needs to think of a plan, but… she might as well indulge in a little nostalgia while she’s stuck here.

Anyone who happens to stumble on her thoughts will find her sitting in the snow, legs crossed and a staff topped with a wooden owl balanced idly across her lap. Around her are something resembling pine trees, if their needles were entirely bright red.

The view really is impressive. Directly ahead, and between the massive ribs of the Titan, lays its skull.

B)
While the nostalgia was nice at first, things eventually began to get… unnerving. She’d begun to have to fight to keep the familiar imagery intact, to ignore whatever this place was trying to show her instead.

She hoped it would help to focus on something smaller than the Isles themselves.

Eda made her way to her house, or at least something based on the memory of it. She shut herself inside and breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that everything seemed right, at least for the moment.

She wanders the house restlessly, looking for things to hang onto. She might be found on the top floor, sitting in a large bird’s nest and looking at what appears to be a family photo of herself, a small, furry, skull-faced creature, a teenage human girl, and some sort of slightly unnerving bird-worm.

At another point she might be found in what appears to be a somewhat makeshift bedroom, picking up a copy of a fantasy novel with a teal-haired witch on the cover. Or on her couch, flipping through a scrapbook.

Wherever you find her, it probably takes her a moment to notice that anyone else is actually there.

C)
Try as she might, she’s slipping. There are memories that Eda has been, at turns, trying to sort into coherency, or trying to ignore. Since entering Steel’s machine, she’s been choosing ignore as firmly as she can.

Ever since arriving in Gloucester, Eda’s been struggling with the confusing nature of the timeline back home. Things she remembers that others don’t, that they remember that she doesn’t. The idea that some version of her was there longer than she remembers, or is going to get back without memories of this place.

That was based purely on piecing together what she was told.

Since her more recent encounter with the Visionary, she’s been struggling with a version of events poured directly into her mind like salt into an open wound.

Unfortunately, that imagery she’s been trying so hard not to think about is very useful to Steel’s machine.

And that’s why, sooner or later, she finds herself near the skull of the TItan as she watches it split and crumble into the sky. A fundamental piece of her world being torn apart like it’s nothing.

The stars crashing to the ground around her are colourful and fake looking, something out of a child’s picture book. It would be laughable, if not for all the destruction they were causing.

In this version of events, she can’t see the being responsible for all this, but she can hear childlike laughter from the sky.

And she can feel the body of the unconscious witch she’s holding close with her single arm, the other currently ending near the elbow. There are other people passed out nearby–friends and enemies and friends-turned-enemies-turned-maybe-friends-again, but the one she’s most upset about is Raine. She knows this version isn’t real, but that doesn’t make this hurt less.

D)
Eda finds herself retreating further inwards.

She isn’t inside her own mind, not technically, or at least not by what she’d consider usual means. At this point, however, that really is a matter of technicality.

She knows what the inside of a mind looks like; she knows going into one is serious business. Dangerous and, at home, somewhat illegal. It also seems like her best option, right now.

Eda is walking through a forest. Most of the trees and plants would look strange, to someone who isn’t from the Boiling Isles. The grass and leaves are mostly shades of red, and purple. Some of the moss growing on trees and rocks appears to have eyes.

There is one plant people from the Human Realm might happen to recognise—some of the trees have orange and yellow snapdragons growing around the base.

The trees vary in size, age, and health. Some vibrant, some gnarled or withered. But the most noticeable thing is that they have framed images hanging on them, some so old that the tree trunks have grown around them.

The images, like the trees themselves, vary. Some appear clearer than others, some brighter or more faded. Here and there, trees and portraits have scratches on them that look as if they were made by a large animal.

One tree that Eda passes is withered to the point it seems to be dying, and the portrait shows… nothing. Not the back of an empty frame nor the darkness of an unlit space; nothing. A void that her eyes slip past, one that it hurts to try to look at. Eda doesn’t try for long.

The subject of the rest is, for the most part, consistent—Eda herself. Sometimes she appears as a small child, all tangled red hair and missing baby teeth and skinned knees. Sometimes a teen, often in a grey and yellow school uniform, occasionally dressed for sports, and, in one unfortunately memorable incident, what appear to be rat ears.

In some she’s a young woman, hair still fiery but beginning to grey at the temples. In some she’s much as she appears now, and everything in between. Sometimes she’s pictured alone, sometimes not—as a trend, the older she gets, the less she’s seen with people around her.

In the distance, there are other trees, ones that look older and different. They bear images of an animal with wings and talons and a heart-shaped owl’s face. They aren’t what she’s looking for.

She isn’t necessarily sure what she is looking for at the moment. Just something safe. Something… grounding.

Wildcard
Surprise me! Or hit me up at strixoid on discord or badgirlcoven

Enter the Matrix (D)

[clavesregni]

Caitlyn is fourteen, and she can hear Jayce telling the story. Again. She's not looking at him. She's not even listening, really. But his voice transports her, all the same, to a mountain peak lit by runes glittering above the snow and a man that can command the very fabric of space and time standing in the eye of a tempest. To Jayce it had seemed as though this man had held the entirety of Runeterra in his palm. It hurts her head to think about the whole of the world like that, so small and fragile and at the mercy of powers that Caitlyn can't even comprehend.

Or Caitlyn is fourteen, and she's listening to her history teacher talk about the Rune Wars and the fall of Helia. Entire continents torn asunder, civilizations destroyed, mages who shed their human flesh to take on spirit forms beyond the comprehension of mortals. And that hurts to think about, too.

Or Caitlyn is fourteen, reading an adventure book about an explorer who survived the trek to the base of Mount Targon, and looked up to the peak to see the cosmos. Suns and moons, stars and comets, entire planets dancing in the sky, dwarfing the little world of Runeterra and the littler city of Piltover. No one returns from the mountain with their mind intact, the book tells her. And she can believe it.

But she also finds it all fascinating, in its way. Some small, dangerous part of her would like very much to go to Mount Targon and see the heavens dancing.

Caitlyn is fourteen, and she's never felt insignificant before. How could she, when her family crest is emblazoned on half the buildings in the city, when her mother holds meetings with emperors and kings and queens? But she's only a child, holding a gun that's so small and useless compared to the World Runes, compared to the unknowable power that lies in her world and beyond. Even the forest she's spent so much time running through seems massive and intimidating...

Only it isn't even her forest, she realizes. The trees here are strange, and the plants are stranger. The moss is watching her. And so are the portraits hanging on the trees. All of the same woman.

"Eda?" she asks curiously.