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apocalypsehowcomm2023-09-16 08:32 am
Event - A Little Perspective
The citizens of Gloucester are abuzz with talk of the new town square in the heart of the city. After some miserable few months… years(?) for some of the citizenry, it's a welcome spark of joy. The prize at the center of the square is a perfect replica of Gloucester set upon a large stone slab for people to view and enjoy. Some small festivities have been set up around the square. Food carts with tasty local offerings–it's a lot of seafood–and hawkers looking to sell jewelry, paintings, and other sundries.
The new town square, itself, is bracketed by the General's Store on one side, other tourist-type shops on two others, and an open park field with benches and plenty of shade trees on the other side. There are planters with gorgeous new flowers and everything has a shining, new feeling to it. Ring out the end of summer with the tiny bells that adorn the mini-clocktower in the replica city!
(cw: altered perception of reality, existential crisis, possible starvation, isolation)
The disappearances don’t happen all at once, but they do take place over the course of a few, unremarkable, hours. One by one, seven people step through a door, cross a street, or go to investigate the brand new replica of Gloucester unveiled in the middle of town and vanish.
Except, to them, they don’t. It’s everyone else who vanishes. Whatever path they were on goes uninterrupted, but every other soul is gone, leaving the streets eerily silent. Perhaps you can find each other through calling out or through chance, but it seems only a few others have been left behind.
It’s not just the lack of anyone else that’s off. It’s there in the very sky, a fog-filled horizon leaves little else to see even from the tallest building in the city…if you’re lucky. Where there should be stars or roads or trees beyond the confines of the city, there are unimaginably massive shadows, creatures that loom and shift and seem to occasionally try to stretch their dark and foggy forms down to grab for people who stay outside too long. Surely inside will be safer.
And, for the most part, it is. There’s no running water, no food that isn’t made of plastic, and only the weak yellow glow of lights that seem to come on and off every few hours without any switches or plugs to be seen. Except then there’s the nightmares. There’s no rhyme or reason, no indication of which building will hold the nightmarish scenario that plays out. The only certain thing is that there’s seven of them…and they’re oddly specific, as though tailor made to one individual. Hopefully a friend or stranger can be the voice of reason needed to see you through, but even facing your fears doesn’t seem to set things right. If anything, as time goes on, it only seems to make the shadows get more agitated. More creative…
(cw: gaslighting, potential for sadism, potential for large-scale destruction and injury/death, body horror, nausea, vertigo, supernaturally induced dread)
For those fortunate enough not to be sucked into the miniature town at the center of Gloucester, there's still more than enough trouble to go around. Mainly, the matter of getting people out of the town, whether they be friends or strangers. You might notice the little figures darting about the replica streets or banging at the tiny windows of buildings. Unfortunate that most (or maybe all) of them run in terror at the sight of you when you try to reach out and the sound of you when you make to run.
Most ordinary people walking by don't seem to notice anything amiss like you do. To them, it's just a quaint little attraction to view for a few minutes and then move on. The people trapped within it go unnoticed or unremarked. Even some of the people who work for ADI can't see it, like they have some sort of blindspot that you lack.
Regardless, there's the matter of rescue (or torment for the more sadistic persons out there). The tiny town, itself is designed in such a manner as to make access to the deeper portions of it challenging. The raised platform and general size makes it all but impossible for anyone under 8 feet tall to actually reach the center of the town without having to climb up onto it. And that… has rather dire ramifications. Those seeking to simply pull apart the town or climb onto it with little regard to the structures will find that any time they disturb or destroy a structure, they have a sinking, horrible feeling in the pit of their stomach. If it's a building that's near to where they are, they might even hear the sound of the real structure in Gloucester buckling and breaking as people scream and flee. Some unnatural force seems to be destroying their town and they have no explanation for it. You do, though. You know exactly what you've done. Perhaps you'll even hear about the injured and dead the next time you happen to read, listen to, or watch the news.
With wanton destruction a less-than-ideal solution to get to the darting figures in the town, that leaves a few other solutions. You could gather a team of people to help you corral the figures. If your hands aren't enough, perhaps others will be. The figures are far faster than they should be when they're that tiny or maybe it's that you're having trouble perceiving the depth of the place and where they are in space. In any case… more hands.
Or, maybe you'll go for a more creative option. If hands won't work, then some tape or netting or other traps might slow your quarry down enough to snatch. Perhaps you're even the sort to construct elaborate, Rube Goldberg-style contraptions to catch the tiny figures without hurting them. Much.
Emotion might rule the day for you instead. If you can just find some way to communicate that you're not a danger, that you're there to help, maybe that would have the figure willing to approach you, to climb into your hand of their own accord. It's maybe the kindest and least terrifying route, but it's also likely to take the longest, and time is of the essence.
At least once you manage to pull a rescued person past a seeming threshold, they transform very suddenly into their full-sized self with all the pain, nausea, and vertigo that comes with the sensation of your body exploding from within. The sense of being too large may persist for just a few hours or up to several days for the particularly unlucky.
Those who spend long enough observing the tiny town will note that there is a small timer affixed to one of the buildings where a billboard is in the real Gloucester. It is steadily counting down and it carries with it a sense of impending doom. When the clock strikes zero, the entire display will simply vanish from the center of Gloucester, like it was never there. Anyone still trapped within will also vanish. All references in newspapers and news stories from the past few weeks will vanish.
Was it ever really there? Most ordinary people don't seem to think so. What an interesting suggestion. Maybe you should let the mayor know. A tiny version of Gloucester sounds like it would be a lovely little attraction in the new town square!
(cw: altered mental states; compulsion; painful transformation; dehumanization; being hunted; potential for violence, injury, and death, including gun violence)
There's a restless feeling about ADI headquarters, a strange sort of readiness and tension growing under the day to day office drudgery one always experiences in a lull between major crises. It's an itch in the back of one's mind, a half-noticed shift like the scent of blood carried on a distant wind. The longer the feeling lingers, the more unbearably dull all the paperwork and research and so forth becomes.
Then, all at once, it comes into focus. For some, it's sharp pain followed by a sudden feeling of terror, the knowledge that you are among predators that mean you harm. For others, it's that scent growing sharp and strong the moment you spot your prey.
The prey are easily spotted, at least within the bounds of ADI property, where Milo's glamour doesn't hide nonhumans and not-quite-humans from one another. The change is often small but always unmistakeable: a set of horns or antlers sprouting from one's head, still bloody from their sudden extrusion; the long ears of a rabbit, quivering with the effort to hear the hunters' approach; feathers that ripple out along one's arms in a mockery of wings; or the silky tail of a fox or mink, the mark of a predator long turned prey at the hands of humans. Any who find themselves marked as prey undergo one or more of these small transformations, gaining characteristics that clearly mark them as one of many animals traditionally considered to be game for hunting or trapping.
And if you're not prey? That makes you the hunter. The compulsion to hunt is overwhelming from the moment you spot a coworker, roommate, or even a dear friend marked as prey. Perhaps you're sly about it and set traps, or stalk them from afar. Or perhaps they run and you simply can't resist the urge to chase. What you'll do if you catch them…well, that depends on one's personality, or perhaps on luck. Maybe you'll snap out of it long enough to let them go. Maybe you'll try to lock them up–for their own good, of course, until you work out how to fix this. Or maybe just chasing them down isn't enough to satisfy the urge–the most obsessed hunters might attack, maul, or even shoot their prey if nothing stops them.
Everyone feels it, though. Anyone who isn't marked as prey will feel the compulsion to hunt when they see someone who is, and it simply will not stop as long as the mark remains. Even outside of ADI, normal citizens will even start to react the same way to something they can't even see through the glamour. The only way to end this curse is to remove the animal feature that grew from you–whether that's sawing off a pair of antlers or chopping off a tail.
Good luck…and good hunting.
- 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, the information provided in the prompts should be sufficient and ordinary people will act like… ordinary people! You're welcome to make up any details for your specific scene. Also, please remember that character deaths are permanent and plan accordingly!
- SMALL FEARS (16-19 September) - Characters trapped in the tiny town will notice the buildings themselves, while sturdy and able to hold their weight, aren’t exactly built to code, almost like they’re made of various craft supplies and short cuts, even if the end result is very convincing. There’s no food or water in the tiny town, but enterprising characters might be able to collect dew outside and survive a little longer that way. Each character has their own ‘nightmare room’ across the various buildings in town and they won’t be able to escape their own nightmare room without someone else’s help. How they get out of the town through the various efforts of those outside is up to the individual player, but anyone still left in town after four days will either die of lack of resources or from the miniature town’s collapse. Please remember that death is permanent.
- BIG FEARS (16-19 September) - Players on the outside are welcome to enact as much destruction and mayhem on Gloucester and its citizens as they would like via the tiny town. Please just let the mods know on the OOC Post in the section dedicated to Town Destruction and Damage so that we can make note of it for future events/the final chapter of the game. Characters that destroy the town will sense the weight of what they've done, even if they don't see or hear the immediate effects. It feels bad to destroy the tiny town. Players are also welcome to come up with creative rescue solutions. The only limitations are that the tiny characters will not be able to understand their speech or anything written for them, so another form of communication may need to be found that doesn't use language.
- ONE FEAR (16-30 September) - Players are free to choose any variety of animal features beyond the ones listed, so long as a.) the feature is linked to an animal traditionally hunted and b.) the change is a discrete feature that can be removed, however painfully. Characters with animal features will find that everyone, not just offworlders and people within ADI, seem to feel the same compulsion to hunt them down until the feature is removed.
no subject
I would expect no less. How sinister it currently sounds to his own ears. As though it were not a compliment to a peer, but as if Emet-Selch were truly saying, 'I'm excited to have such a challenge in my hunt.' It is a phrase that brings a sharper pang of fear and makes Elidibus wish to flee. So much so it near seems as though his vision darkens under the strain to hold his ground.
He knows well were his conscious to fade, he would be subject to the terror and instinct of flight again.
Can he fight as he is? Elidibus might wonder that himself but as if this were no more than a passing exercise of friendly debate so common among their long lost kin, he simply offers an answer in the context of their current predicament.
"Prey, when cornered, is capable of a strength unrealized under the weight of their normal lives." Yes, he acknowledges what he is. "How often have we borne witness to such in the millennia we have guided the path of our Star?"
He doesn't necessarily speak of an analogy to their confrontations with Hydaelyn's heroes. But time and again, both in the Unsundered past and especially the shattered fragments, those hunted and those preyed upon would display behaviors that defy the presumptions of their roles.
With a faint smile that is assuredly not reflecting his true emotions, Elidibus casts a graceful motion with a lightly feathered hand and brings into being a temporary creation. Not sword and shield but rather something which might be taken as staff or spear. Something with reach.
Something using his magic in such a way that would make it more difficult to escape and thus purposefully inciting his instincts to feel ever more cornered.
"Forgive my ill manners, my friend. I fear I have lost much of my normal capacity to discern a clear path towards a better solution."
Or perhaps, that it's Emet-Selch and not some other, lesser threat he could trick or incite fear within in order to build the reserves he needs to ward against whatever influences them both. And he knows his colleague is in no better shape.
no subject
"Time and again. And many failed."
Many had been the would be heroes who had all but dashed themselves against the breast of darkness. Who had sought to undo they who were undying, unending. Who had striven and yet still failed.
But Elidibus is greater than they. Made of sterner convictions and a power that many would not, even if it is nothing that either of them can meaningfully reach, just at the moment.
"But perhaps I can clear your path."
The words are light. The weapon he calls forth is anything but. A greatsword, to match Elidibus' spear - reach to counter reach, for all it is just as temporary as Elidibus' weapon. But it is more solid than a staff, and will at least match the drain of Elidibus' creation rather than needing to reach for his magics instead. Nor does he care to use the magic that has ever been his, the predator in him wishing for something more solid. Something that he can feel the weight of, under his hands and there's a smile on his face as he takes a step out of the shadows.
One that has absolutely nothing to do with anything pleasant.
no subject
"You would have me flee a while longer, then?" Elidibus questions. This time he manages to stand his ground. Yet the fear drifting in the air and offering a tantalizing crumb to the hungry hunter, tells of Emet-Selch's success.
A pity it is, that he, just as Elidibus, would never be able to feel satisfied by what may be drawn. A watery tea, an airy, dry bite of something with little nourishment. Such is the fear one can draw from off-worlders. And why it is so much better to focus one's efforts on the native mortals of this reality.
But here and now, it may simply add an ache of frustration and impetus to further provoke the prey in hopes of actually obtaining a proper bite.
It's foolish indeed to have any hope that Emet-Selch would have a purely altruistic motivation right now. Yes, both would likely want to find a solution from their predicament, drawing this out longer so that perhaps it could be found. But like a double-edged blade, Elidibus knows giving quarter would be as much akin to a game of coeurl and rodent... cloudkin rather. It would be better if he were to flee on his own terms rather than the one Emet-Selch dictates.
He had kept his weapon in one hand. And just as Emet-Selch steps out of the darkness fully, yet without much chance to adjust to any shift in light, the darker tip of the weapon is thrust to the ground. Elidibus sends a surge of power to the upward, lighter tip, causing it to radiate a blinding burst of light.
He will already be in flight - running, not truly flying, well before the flash has faded.
Let the hunt begin.
no subject
It helps less than Elidibus might hope. Emet-Selch still has his soulsight, and Elidibus' soul is so, so easy to spot, even amongst the sea of other offworlders.
Emet-Selch waits only long enough for his vision to unblur enough that he won't trip over unfamiliar ground and then he follows, gaze focused unwaveringly on Elidibus' soul. If it is a hunt Elidibus wants (that the predator in him wants) than a hunt it will be, and he is not the one whose feet might well be changing into something else. And with Elidibus returned to his original form, even the advantage of height is yet Emet-Selch's. Height, and the greater stride that comes hand-in-hand with it, driven inexorably on by both the urge afflicting them and the fact that the fear Elidibus is offering is no more than airy nothings. A fleeting taste, there and gone again.
But he can be patient. Will be patient, and Elidibus will find himself hard-pressed to throw Emet-Selch off the scent.
no subject
Or other predators join the hunt.
They know each others' strengths and weaknesses. Possibly too well. Elidibus's shorter stature is a physical disadvantage when he can't really be more than humans of this Earth. Everything they do, from magic to creation magic, to being more than mortals of this world, all relies on how much fear they have caused in others. Emet-Selch would easily catch up in a footrace like this.
Yet blinding and running out of sight was not simply to gain an edge. Elidibus can still think, still plan for now. And he had hoped to give his hunter cause to rely upon soulsight to trace his whereabouts. It would not be much of an advantage and even now Emet-Selch will probably expect traps. But there was still a difference however slight between watching the world through its aether and with physical vision.
Pity of all people one of the best at this nuance is Elidibus's pursurer. But if it would serve nothing more than to drain the predator's own reserves...
Off the main route, down a darker alley. Another risk, but one with more obstacles. A small sigil placed when the silver haired man splashes a puddle, that will activate and cause a well of gravity to rapidly draw in the loose detritus and lighter weight object toward the center of anyone that foolishly triggers it.
But that would be so easily seen, by a sorcerer of Emet-Selch's repute, right? Easily avoided.
Which is why Elidibus takes precious moments to shift a purely physical set of wooden pallets to topple across the alley. A now precarious pile to climb over... or to destroy or simply effortlessly soar over.
A full glimpse of Elidibus's figure rounding another corner will certainly be the cost. Emet-Selch is catching up.
no subject
Fortunately, the darkness helps, in that regard. While he cannot truly see in the dark, even with the blessing of his patron, it does serve to give his eyes time enough to recover from the earlier blast of light. Enough that he does not need to rely solely on the form of sight that will only serve to drain his powers.
The sigil is still trivial to see, even so. Something that would barely have posed a challenge and though he is yet being ridden by the compulsion to chase, he knows Elidibus will be well aware of his aetherial sight. Enough to have his eyes flicking across the alley instead, and the purely physical barrier standing between him and his prey.
It takes him no more than a moment to decide. The sword he bears is only going to be a drain, and with surprising accuracy, he throws it at the sigil; the resulting explosion of magic dissipating the sword itself as it triggers the trap, neatly clearing the path for him.
He does not resummon his weapon. He does not need it. Not here among the shadows, and that single glimpse of Elidibus rounding the corner is enough, as he reaches for a darkness that is not directly fear-touched - the shadows themselves. Shadows that Elidibus will find rising up off the ground as if to trip him, or snag on stumbling feet and hold.
no subject
It all settles and while the sword disappears because it's no longer sustained, the wreckage is scattered and quite easy to navigate around and continue upon the chase with nary so much a hesitation.
Elidibus has adapted to the awkward gait. But not, when Emet-Selch extends his reach and causes his prey to stumble for a moment, one he can deftly avoid. The almost-corporeal shadows slip and clutch over now-shredded shoes and something more akin to bird feet than man. He catches himself against the wall, but he is held momentarily fast. Once more his weapon is wielded. But like the sword, it will be dispersed in a gambit.
"If Darkness rises, so must Light respond. And thus Balance is restored."
And so the weapon falls apart and Elidibus brings balance, striving to nullify the risen shadow and free himself again.
But it is all the delay Emet-Selch really needed.
no subject
He does not try. The light cleaves the darkness in twain, shadows wisping away to nothingness under the magic Elidibus wields. Nor do they rise again, but there are greater problems at hand. Namely, the fact that Emet-Selch is closing in quickly, making the most of that momentary delay and the utter failure of Elidibus' trap, and though he is not yet so near as to be able to reach out and take hold of his prey (not with more than shadow anyway) he has still very neatly eliminated any advantage Elidibus might have gained by his earlier flashbang.
"Even you cannot run forever. Balance or no."
Though Emet-Selch can admit that Elidibus' light has certainly been effective, and a weapon that he cannot easily defend himself against.
no subject
Such as he so often strives for.
As if an echo, thus does his earlier abundant use of light fall back into balance when Emet-Selch finishes closing the distance. This was inevitable and it is accepted.
"No I cannot," Elidibus agrees. In the shadowy alley the faint light within the irises of the two are more in contrast. But that means it shows that even when his voice is calm, they dart around often, as if looking for escape. It is not like him.
"I need only do so for long enough."
But has it been so? Will he be capable of escaping again? There is light from a distant lamp. Enough reaches the silver haired man's position to shine on beads of sweat.
no subject
He makes not even the slightest attempt to acknowledge it. Instead he simply approaches, slow and inexorable. A darkness that will not be denied forever and that has all the time in the world.
"Has it been? Will the light answer your call again, if you ask it?"
Emet-Selch gestures, fingers of one hand curling up as if to pull something and the shadows quiver under his command, stretching and curling in turn. Reaching out just enough to make it clear that though they have been banished they are not quiescent - and more importantly, that Emet-Selch has not yet reached the ends of his power, though he knows all too well that the gesture will cost him, even as it might serve to deepen the bone-deep instinct running through Elidibus, unnatural though it is.
"I know you had little enough to begin with."
no subject
Would it be enough to balance Emet-Selch again? That was uncertain. What is easy to discern is that it would be the last.
Elidibus flinches when Emet-Selch continues to draw ever closer. This time it's something even an amateur would notice. His step back was nearer a skipping hop one might attribute to a startled bird than the subtle shift of robe. He wants to flee and it would take only the slightest of efforts to break his control.
"Who can say? You are welcome to test what remains of my strength, should you choose."
A little bit more talk. Something to calm him down; something to delay the inevitable by encouraging Emet-Selch to answer. Though not without a third purpose. Perhaps a fourth or more. But it is clear he is buying time as much as probing.
"And yet I would be left to wonder. What urges you to hunt me?" Is it an influence pressed upon Emet-Selch as the role of prey has fallen upon the vulnerable Elidibus? Or is it part of what has befallen younger of the two which draws the elder to hunt him?
no subject
Though in fairness, neither is he thinking about it. Not when he very much has noticed that flinch on Elidibus' end and the hop-skip of his step back - something he very much knows to not be something that Elidibus would normally be prone.
"Oh, but I hardly need to. The fear has you already; but one moment, and you would flee, would you not? A moment denied only by strength of will."
Still, for all that Emet-Selch draws nearer yet he does not test the remains of Elidibus' strength. Does not batter himself against whatever Elidibus has to offer, and the gesture is as much one that is calculated as it is a desire to spare his strength. To make the most of what little he has, and dashing his strength against Elidibus' shields when it is what Elidibus is prepared for is hardly an effective use of his limited power.
The appeal to his more inquisitive nature, on the other hand, does at least have Emet-Selch pausing in his approach. Even if his answer is not particularly helpful.
"What is it that urges you flee?"
no subject
Far from it.
But right now? His mouth was so dry that he had to swallow before speaking again.
"My thoughts are upon the transformation I have fallen victim to," Elidibus does not remark that his friend and colleague and hunter had not given an answer in the traditional sense. It's enough right now that Emet-Selch had paused.
"...Though I cannot say you are not similarly afflicted with the drive of a predator, when I fled our apartment, I knew there were others who would hunt me, given the chance. Even now..."
The area may be more remote, but Elidibus knows there are other threats beyond the one right in front of him. Emet-Selch is the priority.
"It... is dangerous to remain." For a moment, the emotive quality of the Ancient's deep tones is more transparent. Urgent some might think. A creeping panic in truth.
"The longer I stand before you, the less I find myself able to consider what else draws near." ...a deer in headlights "And yet... were I to attempt now to divest myself of this influence, I fear you would strike. It was my error to flee in the first place."
From the apartment, in the initial panic, instead of standing his ground and using what power remained to him then to try and divest himself of the burgeoning transformation.
no subject
Still, he has paused for a moment. And here and now, that will have to suffice. Even if that pause alone does not make him any less a threat. It just means that he is not being an active threat.
(And to be quite honest, he has never much cared for more direct methods anyway.)
"It is." There's a nod at the words, slow and steady and absent the cruelty that had previously laced Emet-Selch's words. As if the pause has given him some room to push further past the compulsion that drives him. "And I would spare you the need to consider it."
It's not a promise, not quite. But it is an offer. A flickering gleam of hope in the darkness; a whisper of potential safety in the wake of the fear that has Elidibus' so helpless in it's grab and one that speaks to who and what they are. If Emet-Selch is the only one who could truly be a threat, than so too would he easily be the equal of any who sought to challenge him over Elidibus.
no subject
Had Elidibus offered too much in response? No, it wasn't... quite that. Again a fleeting thought born not of rational thought, but the fear of what would happen to him if Emet-Selch were to strike. The vulnerability causes a knot in his throat and for a moment, possibly one of the few times in his long life, Elidibus feels unable to speak.
In that moment, Emet-Selch proffers a tantalizing offer. For a second, the silver haired man stills completely. No more trembling. No motion. Within there is a moment's clarity and... his heart can hardly calm so rapidly, but in that moment, the rate seems to lessen. If there is a single being on this star that Elidibus will never not have faith in, it is the predator before him.
A poignant irony.
Unequivocal trust wars with terror. And as ever his way, Elidibus weighs how they might affect one another, now and the future. For a moment, his expression is pained and bittersweet. He knows the offer and sees it for the trap it is and salvation it may be.
"An ephemeral hope. You know well my nature, Emet-Selch. And that which I cannot help but be drawn to, for all it might lead me further into the darkest depths."
Instead of out and into the light. For a precious moment, Elidibus closes his eyes. It is likely the only thing he can do right now to show how much he does trust his colleague and friend. Because what he must say next bears the burden of implying it can be shaken by what's happening. Yet Elidibus has to admit it could.
"You must not hesitate to ensure I see no means to escape you," he says, sounding cool and clinical even while his entire body still trembles. "Even now I am uncertain I would hold my ground the moment you move again. Be swift."
As it was said before, there are others around. Maybe some footsteps can be heard. Or the creak of a window. There has been a bit of noise, a light show... well it was bound to attract attention.
...Elidibus had likely planned that in hopes the predators would trip one another in pursuit of their quarry and afford him another means of escape.
no subject
And irony it is indeed, to find faith in fear.
"I do. As would any of us who survived those final days."
Theirs had been the hands that first created Zodiark. It had been they who had longed for salvation so desperately as to create the first primal and imbue it with naught less than a desire for hope. For salvation, and the possibility that there might be a light in the darkness.
"Have I ever given you cause to imagine I would be less than thorough?"
He doesn't wait for answer. Instead, he reaches for power yet remaining to him, before - with a thoroughly familiar snap - calling bindings into being. Ones that Elidibus will no doubt recall from when he had bound a misbehaving piece of technology, though he will find that these are wrought in such as to be not easily broken, even with the power Elidibus still commands. Admittedly, for the sake of simplicity he has only opted to bind Elidibus' hands and feet but that will sufficient to keep him from fleeing - and with any luck, the unearthly glow of the bindings will be enough to mark ELidibus as his to claim and thus keep any further predators away.
"You will need to walk, yet, on our return."
The bindings around Elidibus' feet allow him enough space to do that, if only just. And with them being as tuned to Emet-Selch's very will as they are, there is reason enough to expect that attempts to flee would result in not even that much of an allowance.
no subject
Dignity shatters as surely as the silence. The rising panic in Elidibus's heart blanks his rational mind; and as though he truly were the bird all the feathers seem to suggest, he began to leap skyward.
The height he reached seems boosted by the remainder of his magicks. For a moment, the torn boots where scaly talons finally burst forth in a painful transformation would be seen within the fluttering hem of his robes.
But he has no wings, nor aether to manipulate currents that would permit him to defy the laws of gravity. As if wounded... or perhaps more analogous as though a bird that had been unaware its wings and feet had been entangled by the discarded lines of careless fishermen.
He falls. Hard and to his knees and now-bound hands. It is surely painful and for a moment he is perilously close to simply toppling over. Only just does Elidibus keep his balance on hands and knees.
The shock brings him back to his senses though. Emet-Selch may very well catch grit of teeth and a grimace. Knowing he would lose control at the slightest flutter did nothing to assuage the embarrassment of it. Particularly before one of his peers.
Carefully he works his way back to his feet. For the moment, the shock of pain and capture seems to have pushed the panic from the forefront. But rather than dare speak out of concern that it would hastily summon it back, Elidibus looks at his captor and nods once.
Drained and bound, he is at the predator's... no, Emet-Selch's mercy.
no subject
So too, is there mercy. He raises not a hand to Elidibus, to either harm nor help, and when Elidibus has finally risen to his feet, he simply offers a nod in return.
The return journey to their shared apartment is, by its nature, slow. The bindings on Elidibus' feet allow him only minimal movement and even were it otherwise, Emet-Selch cannot imagine that either of them are much in state to be inclined to run. But it is, at least, uneventful. No further predators make to attack, and whatever urges that have been driving Emet-Selch's actions seem to have quieted, with his 'prey' thus captured. Enough so that he doesn't speak again until the door of their apartment closes behind him.
"We shall, of course, need to ensure that you remain safe until such time as more permanent solution can be found."
Still, he does loosen the binding on Elidibus' arms and legs. They're not gone, not yet. But it's enough to suggest that he is more willing to allow Elidibus some freedom while he considers options. Even if it is because he happens to be standing between Elidibus and the door just at the moment.
no subject
He is swift to make a little distance between himself and Emet-Selch, though it moves him further from the only logical way out. There's windows, sure. He might even thikn of trying to test those boundaries if made nervous enough.
It's not as though the spoken word 'safe' doesn't stir nervousness in him even now. The bindings remain but aren't tested. And he nods.
"My gratitude for your support, Emet-Selch." He takes a moment to look around. "By your leave, I would ask you secure my room. I believe it is best that I rest for a time."
no subject
For the time being, however, there is simply a nod in return for Elidibus' mention of gratitude, before Emet-Selch turns instead to the rest of Elidibus' comment.
"Should that be your wish."
There's a nod as if he expects Elidibus to follow him - or, perhaps, lead the way - but regardless of how the two arrive at Elidibus' room, once Elidibus steps inside, Emet-Selch wastes no further time in doing precisely that. He does not, however, opt for a more physical binding. No, instead, he turns to the door and the windows, laying a careful enchantment on both. Not one of repulsion or one that will forbid entry, no. It is a subtler thing than that - a spell of fear.
One that speaks to danger, to threat, and one that will only grow stronger the more he genuinely seeks to move beyond the boundaries of his room - one that whispers softly that his room is safety. Sanctuary, where naught else would be.
Only when he's sure the spell is settled correctly does Emet-Selch loose the bindings on Elidibus' arms and legs. There will be no further need of them, after all.
"Should you require aught else, I will not be far."