Lt. Col. John Sheppard [Stargate: Atlantis] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-04 07:00 pm
ferriswheelsandfootball) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-04 07:00 pm
ferriswheelsandfootball) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-04 07:00 pm
Farewell to Crab Arm Start! - Closed to Elidibus and Emet-Selch
So he can't believe he's going through with this.
But he's going through with this.
It's about time, he thinks, despite his misgivings about the possible...fallout from all this, since he knows all too-well what the consequences of magic is here in this world, but he also thinks that it will be worth it. And he's so used to causing fear at this point, what's a little more fear out in the general populace?
And it's becoming dangerous having a distinctly non-human part of himself, not when the glamour was so volatile, not when the being generating the glamour was so volatile.
Still, despite everything he's not entirely sure what to expect when it comes down to it. He's certainly never done this before, and this is beyond even the technology of the Ancients from his universe...actually no, this was probably exactly something they could do, they just never found the right lab for it. Or they could just, like, regrow his whole arm from scratch...
...either way having a crab arm in the first place in his original universe was an unlikely event anyway.
Unlikely, but not impossible.
Sheppard knocks on the door of Elidibus' and Emet-Selch's apartment, taking a deep breath, his body language suggesting that he was, in fact, quite nervous.
It's fine.
He's sure everything will be fine.
"It's me, Sheppard," he calls out, the loss of his first name still stinging every time he means to use it and just...can't.
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(Loosed properly, anyway, rather than the brief and fleeting attempts they'd made while feeling out what their combined powers could manage.)
That said, if Sheppard is hoping for the more familiar face of Elidibus answering the door, he will be disappointed, given that it is in fact Emet-Selch answering the door. On the other hand, today he looks quite entirely normal, apart from the almost perennially grumpy expression on his face. There's no glow of faintly eldritch magic about him, nor anything to suggest that he is ready to remove Sheppard's altered limb in full view of any passers-by.
Instead, there's a nod, as he holds the door open.
"Well, come on in, then."
Admittedly, he is not making any attempt to lessen any potential nervousness. But he can pick up on it all the same.
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Besides that, it looks so ordinary a task one would wonder if the feat that had been promised was... well, supposed to be done here. The cups are tucked onto a drying rack and hands wiped before the silver haired man joins the other two in the living space.
A glance around would earn a first impression of a well-kept apartment. Clean but not so perfect as to seem staged or unnatural. They definitely live here and there's a number of books (history, the supernatural myths, geography and occultism are foremost on shelves or resting on a side table). But if Sheppard happens to look more deeply into it, he might notice something nags. At least here in the common areas, it almost looks a little too normal, if one considers the two come from a world that certainly has some alien concepts they've let slip over the last few months.
As if the two men were frighteningly good at looking like they fit into and are willing to be part of the society they found themselves a part of.
"You have come at a good time. I trust you remember my colleague, Emet-Selch?" Elidibus has a soothing presence at least and does begin with introductions to smooth over his companion's more abrasive demeanor.
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"Thanks," he says idly as he passes by the first, moving into the living area and seeing the familiar face of Elidibus.
"Hey, yeah, I do." He finger-guns with his remaining human hand at them both, mostly out of the universally awkward feeling of entering someone else's home for the first time and just sort of taking in the place, while you're not sure what to do with your hands. The place seemed well-kept and aggressively normal, and he's not sure what to make of it. Maybe he doesn't need to make anything of it. Also maybe he's just really nervous because he's about to lose the crab arm, so...
"So..." he trails off, just as awkwardly. He swears he does have social skills. "Nice place. So is this where...it's gonna happen? I just kind of expected maybe a magic circle or some incense..."
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Still, he's content enough to let Elidibus see to the actual pleasantries. Not that he wouldn't have been able to, if he had to. But he far prefers to not have to bother, when given the option. As such, he doesn't actually speak up again until Sheppard mentions magic circles and incense, at which point a scowl crosses his face.
"As if either of us would need to resort to such crude implements."
Their magic may be much reduced, yes. But that hardly means they need to resort to what Emet-Selch, at least, sees either as means by which to artificially boost their power or (less charitably) unnecessary pieces of stage dressing.
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"While sigils and ritual motions sometimes play a part in the magic we are accustomed to, the particular magicks we are availing ourselves of today have little need for them."
Perhaps when working in concert in some greater work to coordinate the effort. But for them, this level of creation needs no fanfare.
"Creation magicks are part of our birthright. They are a product of our will and ability to manipulate aether. Ordinarily, the concept of this arm and syncing it to you would be a trivial matter for one of us." Ah yes, trivial. Like people were he's from pop fully functional arms out of nowhere before breakfast.
"...Yet this star limits the power we may bring to bear alone. Thus one reason why I have asked my colleague to aid me in this endeavor. As well, Emet-Selch is more familiar with the fundamental principles of the concept itself."
Doesn't that explain so much? Elidibus will leave a moment for Sheppard to process what he said before continuing.
"As for the matter of medical procedures common to Earth, there will be no need for it. You may experience some disorientation, but there will be no pain, nor concern for contamination brought on by non-sterile conditions."
Elidibus then inclines his head.
"Though we discussed matters briefly before," a time in which without a doubt ELidibus would have warned of the known cons brought on by the Fears that serve as the patrons of the two (three), "you are welcome to voice any concerns and questions you may have.
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"Well, either way, I'll be glad to see this thing go," John says, steeling himself a little, letting his nerves be buried under his usual flippant attitude. Screaming on the inside is much better than the reverse.
"Trivial. Well, I hope I never get on either of you two's bad side."
...he means that in all seriousness. That's kind of terrifying.
"Okay...good. That's...pretty much all the questions I had, cause you know...the whole arm removal thing was...kind of a worry." He actually has like a thousand more questions but if he actually gets answers to them he'll probably second-guess his decision, so better to just go ahead and do it.
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"It is unlikely that you will."
Grumpy though Emet-Selch often is, he does at least try to be patient. Nor is he likely to aim his ire at those who have also been caught up in ADI's machinations, when he knows that they are (mostly) not to blame for the mayhem that is so commonplace, here. Nor do they have anything to do with the forces that have drawn both him and Elidibus into the mess.
"Assuming you have no inclination to try."
Which is, for good or for ill, the one thing Emet-Selch cannot easily account for.
"You may wish to close your eyes. The sight of what is to occur will doubtless prove unsettling."
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"It is as Emet-Selch says," he agrees. There's no need to worry about something unlikely to happen barring an intentional act to do it. Nor to dwell on it. The important warnings were given before, such as the curse of the Fears, and that this would be a permanent removal of Sheppard's true arm. Matters like that were brought up so he could truly think about his decision.
He may not appear eager, yet Elidibus does so want to move smoothly on to obtaining Sheppard's arm. Disorienting and unsettling may not calming words used to describe an upcoming procedure, but maybe it's better than 6 months recovery and physical therapy?
Also Shep's therapist is recommending it. That has to count for something.
A hand is raised and swept. It is not the start of what passes for an 'operation' itself, but the casting of an array of wards that will hinder if not completely block outside influence and interference. It would not do to be interrupted at an inopportune time with the ring of a phone, the honk of a horn or the passing wings of a bird.
There is a beauty to lines and crystalline colors laced together in the air about them before these images fade from physical view. The change in the environment- now bereft of sounds other than those made by the three inside- which settles after is not claustrophobic, but one of a peaceful sanctum.
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That gets a brief, wide-eyed look of mild, suspicious fear from John at the first part-he makes a mental note to never, ever get on their bad side-and the second, well.
“I know I probably shouldn’t look, but I kinda also wanna know what you’re doing to my arm, so. I’ll just deal with the nightmares later.”
A pleasant, tight smile.
He really hopes he’s not going to regret this.
The light display from Elidibus is pretty, however brief, and the quiet that falls after is both peaceful and unsettling.
Nice. So now when this all goes horribly, horribly wrong, no one can hear him scream. Fantastic.
“Magic operating room?” Sheppard raised his eyebrows, but mostly as a joke, mostly because if he doesn’t joke he might just scream quietly to himself. If anyone wants to fear-feed off of John, he’s a buffet right now.
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Instead, there's simply a nod at Sheppard's decision to keep his eyes up.
"As you will."
It's hardly any concern of Emet-Selch's after all, and he will not be the one to deal with anything that might result from the decision. And though there is the briefest of nods to Elidibus as the feeling of the wards settled around them he offers little else, save, perhaps, to stop and answer Sheppard's question about them.
"In a manner of speaking. It will serve to minimize distractions while we work."
The fear gently wafting off of Sheppard is ignored for the time being as Emet-Selch instead turns to Elidibus.
"If you are capable of seeing to the matter of removal on your own, I shall see to beginning the creation of the replacement."
And indeed, Sheppard may be able to pick up on a background hum of power rising, as Emet-Selch begins to call on his own magic - magic that is, for now, unfocused until such time as he knows whether or not Elidibus will require it for this step. Though if he should, Emet-Selch will be more than glad to give it.
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If either were to be lessened by being able to watch in the man's mind, then who are either of them to protest. He adds what might be taken as a reassurance about the wards he had just cast.
"It will prevent accidental intrusion and interruption. Yet it does not entrap us within. You are free to leave when or should you wish." Indeed if there's any instinct among Sheppard's Hunt instincts, both the words and the sense to the surroundings ring true. There is no sense that the spells prevent escape.
As for the fear? All is welcome, particularly as it can be harnessed however slight, however pale to fuel what they are about to achieve. Elidibus won't miss the opportunity, even if he has to resist the temptation to further it.
He must remember the true goal. Thus briskly and with Emet-Selch's query a perfectly timed distraction to turn to, the silver haired man focuses on Sheppard. His head tilts in thought.
"Nothing has changed from my original estimation," Elidibus finally answers. He lifts his hand again and begins to gather his own magic. Two quite similar forms of magic, yet patroned by two very different Fears. It may add a soft hum of discordance at first.
"I will take the afflicted arm, then I will join the rest of my magicks to your efforts," he assures his colleague. To Sheppard, Elidibus offers a word of advice.
"Brace yourself. You will likely experience some vertigo and discomfort." Apparently aside from the mental shock of literally seeing your arm chopped off with magic. An act which seems to only need a casually outstretched hand to gather his magic into a defined spell.
This time it seems a simple light that coalesces into visual representation of the magic and much more opaque than the transulcent wards of earlier. Predominately white, someone looking closely with the dubious privilege of being able to see what's about to happen might notice traces of a green like spring grass and a blue closer to tropical waters as the shallows give way to depths.
Elidibus, who carries himself with the demeanor of someone doing nothing more than making a vague gesture with his hand, does give Sheppard a bit of time to brace as suggested... or flee the room if all's to be honest. But should he stay then the globe of light makes the journey from its starting point to the precise location where the transformation of the man's arm halted and humanity remained. It forms a band and settles in place. It cannot be... felt, exactly. Not like a pressure or something that triggers a sense of touch. But there is something akin to stillness, coupled by just a hint of sharp and finally soothing ever so fleeting.
There won't be any sense of constriction. Not even that numb tug one might expect from nerve-numbed flesh being severed. A strange sense of... unravelling (to be sure there is no trace of the transformed flesh at its very root left to corrupt and hinder) at the area between human and crab. The glowing light flows town to encompass the arm like a shell. And then, as abruptly as a light switch, the weight and balance of it being simply gone is thrust upon Sheppard not unlike a sense vertigo.
With just a brief flick from Elidibus, the crab appendage is then surrounded by what appears to be purplish chains constructed of energy - one must be careful to seal away such dubious curses- before disappearing. Stored away for... later.
"All is in order," Elidibus says to Emet-Selch. He is ready to join his remaining power with his colleague's for the creation magicks.
Earlier, the two powers, two different Fears, seemed at first discordant. Such would make sense, no? The Eye and its hunger for knowledge. The Dark, which might well manifest as fearing what knowledge may lie within it. But whether some practice, the familiarity the two have for one another or a mixture of both the two powers have blended together. Now?
As if never at odds, it hums in the background, a subtle siren's song of the dark Abyss which holds rich and tantalizing knowledge to be claimed at its darkest and most terrifying depths.
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Other than a slight nod at both Emet-Selch and Elidibus, he’s silent from the beginning, his eyes wide, his breathing just this side of rapid, evidence of the fear that burns within. But he’s a soldier through and through and he knows how to handle being afraid, knows how to deal with it.
Though there’s nothing in his training or experience that can prepare him for this.
Despite everything that’s happened to him, despite magic being, well, normal now, despite being a Hunt Avatar, seeing magic used like this is fascinating. Shocking. Scary.
Kinda cool.
His eyes are wide as the glowing globe of light forms a band and…there’s a sensation.
It’s weird.
It’s not pain exactly, but he gasps a little anyway, the sensation so strange it’s like he doesn’t know how to react to it. A stillness, a sharpness, a soothing, and then an unraveling.
And then the weight of it is quite suddenly gone.
He does feel a weird sort of sudden vertigo, almost making him sway but he doesn’t dare move in case he messes something up and loses a shoulder, too.
The crab arm is wrapped in a magical ribbon and then…it’s gone.
John looks down in numb horror as he sees…nothing, where his arm should be. He thought he was prepared for seeing it, feeling it…despite knowing that a new arm is being readied, but when faced with the reality, well.
There’s a visceral, instinctive repulsion at the sight of it not being there, and the numbness of it not being there—
If anyone is snacking on his fear right now, they probably just got the all you can eat buffet.
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Instead, he turns to his own, the background hum of his own Dark-fueled powers rising as he turns his thoughts to the creations of centuries ago. Reaches back past memories of the flawed echoes he had seen recreated in the technology of Garlemald to long-forgotten Allag, and their miracles of technology melded to flesh.
It looks like nothing, at first. Merely a sense of power coming from Emet-Selch's direction as he pulls holds the concept firm in his mind. (Metal, wrought thin, to serve as skin. A network of cables, to serve as muscles and to carry the signal that would otherwise have animated a natural arm. Joints, at both elbow and each of the fingers, mechanical in nature though otherwise the equal of any flesh-and-bone hand.) One that - as described - might well sound almost impossible to manage, and yet there is no outward sign of difficulty or strain in Emet-Selch's expression. Instead, he merely glances over at Sheppard before adjusting the concept he holds in his mind such that it is more in keeping with the man's natural arm.
And there he holds it, power and concept both held in readiness until Elidibus' signal.
It's only after the crab arm falls away and Elidibus seals it that anything happens. There's a brief nod at Elidibus' words and then Emet-Selch reaches out to join their power together. It's a sudden thing, too, the Eye and the Dark harmonizing into one eerily single note of the knowledge in the darkness depths, of the knowledge that surely must be waiting in those fathomless depths and then barely as soon as Sheppard has had time to react to the sudden loss of his arm than something else is there.
An arm, real and solid, for all that it is very clearly not one of flesh and blood. An impossible arm, and yet one that is, the fact only barely given enough time to be recognized before the magic brushes against where the crab arm has only recently been.
It is not a comfortable feeling, as a chill like unto the darkest depths of the void brush against Sheppard's shoulder. And yet there is no pain. Only that crawling chill, as the magic seeks out the nerves it is to connect to. The sharp almost-sting of nerves being relit, pricking across flesh as the arm anchors itself, tendrils of metal sinking into his skin as painlessly as everything else.
And then... it is done, and with one last dramatic flourish (and a quick tug on the fear Sheppard has so kindly offered) Emet-Selch covers the attachment point and the tendrils both with one last covering of the same metal 'skin' as the rest. No sense in not at least making some after to keep it aesthetically clean.
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Well there is the matter of seeking to coax the Fear that empowers his gifts here into something... hmm, harmonious? Useful to an end? But there's really only so much of that he could hope to influence. Particularly with two other patron Fears at play.
Think of it more like purposefully suggesting a way to manifest that the Fear itself would find agreeable as well. Nothing at all sinister here. And certainly not within Elidibus's control as to whether he'd ultimately succeed.
In the end, the arm is certainly not one of flesh and blood. It is definitely metal, with a light tracing lines as if there were some power source deep within. Yet it doesn't seem cold by any means. Nor does it weigh too heavily. Perhaps some of this is because of the presence of sensation that seems communicated as well as Sheppard's other human arm.
Sure, one might notice a difference if one were to focus but it's not extreme.
And it is possible that the weight of the crab arm that was there for months is throwing off estimation of what this new artificial arm should feel like in comparison but....
Metal - and yes touching it with human fingers would definitely indicate it's metal of some kind - shouldn't be this light.
Nor should it illicit a sensation of feeling any fingers Sheppard tries to poke at it, if such is his inclination. But it is light. It feels very nearly natural. And it will provide sensation.
Elidibus is looking at the newly constructed limb as though stepping back to inspect the overall look of a newly finished craft, rather than a fully working appendage literally conjured into existence with a thought. It may also be worth noting that the whole process, from removal of the former limb to conjuration and attachment of the new, may have taken about five minutes, tops.
He nods and there's a moment of satisfaction.
"Given our restrictions, I'm inclined to believe we could not expect a more favorable outcome," he says to Emet-Selch. Almost cheerfully -and really he's pleased enough with the results- Elidibus then asks a question of Sheppard.
"Does aught seem amiss with it?" There's even a tiny smile permitted.
...
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It takes all his training and experience not to jolt when it happens, when he scarcely has time to process that he’s missing an arm when there is another arm there, but nothing like his original arm nor his crab arm.
It’s the strangest sensation, coupled with what it looks like—it looks cool, honestly, like if he had to choose what a techno-magical arm would look like, this would be it, but the sensations, the chill that drains all heat from him, the prickles, the…tendrils sinking into his skin.
It should hurt. It feels impossible that it doesn’t, like it’s breaking the rules of reality and nature. A gasp escapes him, involuntarily, as much as he wants to squirm away he doesn’t and instead grips his other hand into his leg.
And then it’s done.
And there’s sensation.
John just stares at it, his brain feeling strange, trying to grasp the transition from crab arm to no arm to metal arm all in one go.
“That was…really fast,” he finally says, finding his voice, after licking his lips.
“No, it…it’s perfect. It’s…light.”
He tries to move it upwards a couple of inches and it does, and while expected, it still feels kind of shocking, like his brain is still adjusting to the nerve input, to the lack of the heavy crab arm, to the humanoid shape. He flexes the fingers, and they move just fine.
“This is…” his voice goes dry again. “Wow.”
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Still, it is an arm, and with the spellcraft done, Emet-Selch allows himself to relax slightly. The wards he will leave to Elidibus to take down, though, given that they were his to begin with.
"As it should have been. That is what creation magics are. Creating something using little more than the power of one's mind to shape the aether into the desired form."
It requires rather a lot of aether, of course. But that is something that Emet-Selch feels is rather less important to dwell on.
"And of course it is light. The Allagans who first pioneered the technology would have demanded naught less, and it is from their designs this springs."
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Well maybe 'normal' is a strong word. But still.
"It is meant to function as an arm should," he says, backing up Emet-Selch's comments. "There will be some small differences as the technology is not of this star. It will recover from small cuts and injuries, much as a flesh and blood arm would." That is to say something you could put a bandaid over or maybe a few stitches in? It'll repair over time.
"And to a degree, it will spare you pain and discomfort. As for more considerable damage, it is likely you would have to turn to us for proper repair. Or at least to procure the materials needed to keep it in the condition it is now."
Sure, what's not being said is that it's going to be much harder to get to that level (honestly supernaturally so by this world's standards) but that's a good thing considering any 'need to be created' materials, if their magics can't 'heal' it, would probably make it even more cursed.
Surely though other than that and its appearance, it'll be a perfectly normal arm! Right?
[ By Etheirys standards. ]
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Now that the more...disconcerting, and dare he say, possibly scary part is over, he's finally allowed himself to relax and actually enjoy what he's been given.
Like, he kind of hated magic before? But this right here? This is cool magic.
"I can't believe that it can just repair itself like that." Sheppard taps on the surface with his other hand, running up and down the side, marveling at it.
This is so much better than his crab arm.
And will probably be a perfectly normal arm with no problems.
Except this is this world and nothing comes without strings here.
His jubilant attitude falters a moment.
"You think there'll be a price? I mean, besides the fear you obviously used to create this." He hopes that's all it'll be. The arm seems innocuous enough, what kind of trouble could he get from the arm? Pain, maybe? He can deal with that. Needing to feed on fear more? Annoying, but he can do that, too.