There's a strange sense of timelessness happening - you are everywhere, and nowhere, and also a small part of you ... somewhere. all colors and songs and joyful life, while you are here. with her, watching you carefully.
"Now we can begin. Begin again, I mean. Would you like to see the draw?"
the woman continues shuffling her cards, before putting three down on the small table between the two of you. face down.
"Your past. Your present. Your future."
She turns the first. A purple-skinned tiefling child draws blood from his arm, filling a chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the great Sanguine Sanctuary. On either side, a dark-furred catfolk woman, and a tall, muscular blonde watch on, holding tight to either elbow.
"A terrible trade for magic ... but I suppose one has to make sacrifices."
She turns the second. A purple-skinned tiefling in a red coat, patterned and beautiful, spinning. It makes you sick to look at it. A red eye is tattooed across the back of one of the figure's hands.
"Empty. Free. Death-obsessed. Then again, you always were, weren't you? In another time and place, you'd be in another time and place."
She pauses, fingers against the third card and she hums before standing and walking away. You feel everything go dark again. Silence. Like when everyone has filed out of the theater after the performance, and you've been left here alone. Comforting, in a way, to be finally alone in the quiet. ]
[ this is...both comforting and perturbing, actually, the longer he sits and the more he watches on and listens to this woman. once upon a time and twice upon a time life changed drastically, and this is something shoma can, in a strange way, understand. he thinks he picks up the implications well enough.
a bit of blood to trade for power, a sacrifice for something important. a new beginning that wasn't him, but something else and someone else and a perception that isn't correct. another time and another place.
being alone and with the third card, he thinks maybe he's meant to just stay here and be silent. but that isn't like shoma. is that third card there? he's curious what it is, and he's going to try and flip it for himself to interpret it. he does not know shit about tarot, but we can try. ]
[ the third card can be there, if he's thinking about the third card. doesn't everyone want to know their future? over it goes. a grave, the dawn breaking in the hills behind it. Written across the bottom in loopy, girlish handwriting is DEATH.
But death isn't always the end. in some sense, isn't it simply a rebirth?
there's a sound like a song, filtering through the silence. and before long (or not long? time isn't anything here) you hear the final notes of the refrain. A blade twists in your chest and
"Did you learn anything?"
You hear footsteps. The woman is back, bending down to look you in the eye, smiling.
"Thrice upon a time. Can you believe it? Say, do you know what comes after thrice ... ?"
But you don't have time to respond. The purpose. The promise. THE VISION. OPEN YOUR EYES. A whispered command: wake up.
[ he doesn't entirely believe in the heart of the cards. likewise, he doesn't entirely know how to read them. death as a rebirth makes sense, like reaching enlightenment.
moksha...
"did you learn anything?"
no. yes? he doesn't know and soon he's blinking rapidly upon hearing the command. ]
and light. it burns like nothing else you've ever felt, and you choke on the soil in your mouth, coughing as you feel the soft press of a padded paw against your forehead, wiping it away - `You couldn't have washed the dirt off of him before you did the fucking ritual, Cree?` - `I didn't think-- Shut up! He's awake--`
A thousand thoughts fill your head as you return to life, real life, memories, feelings BURNING ONES you have to KILL HER you must be avenged you will rend her and `Shit! Alive again for two seconds and he's already yelling about revenge?!`
but the thoughts all fade suddenly, like the your stomach dropping, and you're out of the memory again--
lucien stands off to one side, leaning against the wall, hands over his eyes like they're burning in under the light. ]
anyway he's instantly panicking a little at the notion of being buried alive, thank you. he hates this. he's busy trying to claw his way out of it but he stops when he feels the rest of the memory play itself out. everything's on overload, too many thoughts and revenge is a familiar concept and then
oh. and then we're back, and there's lucien, and shoma's just staring for a hot second because holy shit. ]
... [ okay. no sudden moves. no sudden words. he's just....gauging...carefully. ]
[well. he wasn't buried alive haha. he was definitely dead when he was buried!
lucien calms down after a second, pushing his hands through his hair and standing up - clearly still a bit freaked out but forcing himself to be calm. ]
Vess DeRogna. Archmage of the Assembly. [ he realizes shoma has like zero context for this, so. ] One of the most powerful magic users in the world, or at least, she'd certainly like to believe so. A vaunted seat so high above the rest of us mortals she can hardly do her own dirty work. She'd hired us - the Tombtakers - for expeditions. She was jealous and petty and covetous. She wanted what I had. A connection to real and true power. Something not of this world. So she killed me for it.
[ he flexes a hand. ]
I have been granted gifts that render a mage near helpless. She was a pretender, and I make sure to set an example to would-be pretenders.
[ the look on his face seems to indicate that he is...thinking of a few people who fit this description, and he can't say that he enjoys it. thank you for the crash course, but also why is it that the people who want the most power and believe themselves to be above mortals are the ones who do the most damage with the least effort applied? god. ]
It wasn't like killing you would transfer your powers to her, would it? [ he shrugs. ] Sounds as if she had this coming for some time and you were just the one to actually do it.
Killing me did exactly that. [ transferred his powers to her. ] But they had never chosen her. They chose me.
[ ... ]
I imagine death would have come for one way or another, yes. I don't know that she expected me, but then again, she was the one who first accused me of having ambition beyond my reach.
And that would mean they never would've worked with her, I guess. [ if they were lucien's to begin with, why would they work even with a transfer? ] Would you agree with that? Having ambition greater than you should.
[ he crosses his arms, tapping a finger against his upper arm. ]
Perhaps "should" is the key word here. Who I am, where I'd come from, I'm not supposed to have any ambition. So perhaps I already have more than I "should."
I don't think ambition's a bad thing. So even if you're not "supposed" to have it, it's better than nothing.
[ which is all he says before lucien is treated to...a memory! that i have to handwrite because the game splices this lore so bad i hate aini. ]
you find yourself in a house. it's a little drafty, and it's a little empty, but you feel safe here albeit discontent. you're home alone again, and you find yourself feeling a little annoyed at the lonely feeling that wants to creep up and squash you. after all, you're twelve. you should be a big kid by now. you don't need anyone else.
you're...happyish, here, inside your home with your tools and your parts, building away in silence with no one else around. with nobody else, there are less chances of people teasing you, reminding you of your shitty background. it used to be okay. you used to have friends you'd laugh with and play with, but lately...
"andes komeji sucks. and you've never made us laugh either!" "yeah, lameness must be genetic!" "so true. now that's funny." "we don't want to contract your unfunny disease, so we're gonna stay away from you!"
...who cares about what they think. definitely not you. and anyway this is your stupid dad's fault, with his stupid job and his stupid jokes and his stupid...everything.
you glare at the tv, not even daring to turn it on before you look at the kotatsu's tabletop before you and pick up your phone. it's a world at your fingertips inside your own home, and it's a world you can design yourself. it feels warm in your hand, and without thinking you swipe in your passcode.
you have an app called viewqube. it's a streaming site that's home to thousands of videos of all kinds. your subscriptions tend to be on the nerdier side of things (robotics competitions, how-to videos, a few simple things like music videos and cute animal videos, animatics of some weird creepy-cute stuffed toys...) but they're pretty organized. in the trending though you see a video that you've heard a few rumors about recently...something called bats490? your curiosity gets the better of you...so you click it.
...what the hell did you just watch? despite the sudden spook from watching this video, you find yourself a little intrigued. you remember hearing about this. people who watch the video would vanish. those who went missing were taken into another dimension...if you actually believed the rumors. but you have heard that there's a code hidden in the video. and you've heard that those who can decode it can find the coordinates to go to a specific location. everyone else who has gone there has said the same thing before disappearing: "i've learned the secret of the world."
...who cares if you disappear? what do you have to lose anyway? it's just you and your dad, and he's never here, and he doesn't even care what you do. he's never cared about your feelings, so why would he care about this?
your mind begins to move, and your hands follow, playing the video over and over again as you begin working out the code. there's an anagram, but you set that aside. there are numbers, and arrows, and letters. you believe those are the ones to focus on. it takes time. but you solve it, you think.
the coordinates lead you to a building. it looks non-descript, an office building of some kind, but your coordinates aren't quite aligned yet. just as well. this place is extremely hard to get into on a normal basis. you know this building to be the headquarters for naixatloz japan. if you believe iris, naix is a devil-worshipping demon cult that deals with murders and kidnapping and trading on the black market. some of their members are even working with aliens.
not that you believe those rumors. you know iris just likes to look into urban legends, as established. still, it's a little nerve-wracking for you to follow the coordinates and begin to head to an entrance to the west. there's a small door, and when you open it everything is dark inside. as you cross the iron bridge, the door shuts behind you. careful. the lighting is dim, and the distance is far. the ladder leads you about 50 meters down, if you had to guess, and when you reach the ground you can see the full view of this place. multiple columns seem to hold it up, pathways leading to different entrances and exits. torches are mounted on the walls for light, and quicksand appears to fall from the roof over your head in some places. up ahead also appears to be an altar, a large pyramid-shaped platform with the naix symbol overhead, lit by candles.
you venture toward the altar. everything echos a little louder, and you find yourself both curious and alert in case you have to run. but as you approach the steps of this raised pyramid-esque structure you see a woman. she looks at you, and you feel as though she's staring straight into your soul. it's clear that she is surprised by your presence even if her expression gives no tells.
"Congratulations. It appears you've solved the code." she continues to study you, and in that moment you're frozen and transfixed. "You are young, but remarkably intelligent for your age. I believe you can comprehend the teachings of Naix." she pauses then, turning to retrieve what appears to be a thin black book. "This world which you have lost all faith in, is a false one. This false world is made with specific rules, by a program. And if it is made by a program, there must by necessity be imperfections, or seams. That is our objective. To find, or create these seams. By reaching the real world through Moksha, you can rid yourself of all your complications and concerns."
you have lost faith. you're sick of the world. you're sick of being treated this way. you're sick of your father who doesn't listen to you and constantly gets clowned on. you're sick of your mother you haven't even really spoken to since you were nine. you're sick of watching your sister work herself to the bone trying to help you because both of your parents have failed you. you're sick of being teased, you're sick of the things being done without your consent, you're sick of feeling this way...
...wouldn't it be nice if all of it were fake? if it wasn't real...the pain you feel wouldn't be real either. all of it could just go away.
...is it actually possible? could it be that everything you've experienced and everything around you is all fake? it means...you can escape, can't you? if you find these seams. you can save yourself. you can rid yourself of this cruel, useless world and access a world of your own making. maybe you could be happy again.
"Our purpose in releasing Bats490 was to recruit high-IQ individuals to Naix in order to help fulfill our purpose. You cannot tell anyone about the secret of the world."
this is all she says. she reaches a hand out to you, and you find yourself reaching back. even if everything else is fake, this feels real. you want to believe this to be true. you think...this is finally the answer.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"Hm. Once upon a time. No-- Twice upon a time."
There's a strange sense of timelessness happening - you are everywhere, and nowhere, and also a small part of you ... somewhere. all colors and songs and joyful life, while you are here. with her, watching you carefully.
"Now we can begin. Begin again, I mean. Would you like to see the draw?"
the woman continues shuffling her cards, before putting three down on the small table between the two of you. face down.
"Your past. Your present. Your future."
She turns the first. A purple-skinned tiefling child draws blood from his arm, filling a chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the great Sanguine Sanctuary. On either side, a dark-furred catfolk woman, and a tall, muscular blonde watch on, holding tight to either elbow.
"A terrible trade for magic ... but I suppose one has to make sacrifices."
She turns the second. A purple-skinned tiefling in a red coat, patterned and beautiful, spinning. It makes you sick to look at it. A red eye is tattooed across the back of one of the figure's hands.
"Empty. Free. Death-obsessed. Then again, you always were, weren't you? In another time and place, you'd be in another time and place."
She pauses, fingers against the third card and she hums before standing and walking away. You feel everything go dark again. Silence. Like when everyone has filed out of the theater after the performance, and you've been left here alone. Comforting, in a way, to be finally alone in the quiet. ]
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a bit of blood to trade for power, a sacrifice for something important. a new beginning that wasn't him, but something else and someone else and a perception that isn't correct. another time and another place.
being alone and with the third card, he thinks maybe he's meant to just stay here and be silent. but that isn't like shoma. is that third card there? he's curious what it is, and he's going to try and flip it for himself to interpret it. he does not know shit about tarot, but we can try. ]
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But death isn't always the end. in some sense, isn't it simply a rebirth?
there's a sound like a song, filtering through the silence. and before long (or not long? time isn't anything here) you hear the final notes of the refrain. A blade twists in your chest and
"Did you learn anything?"
You hear footsteps. The woman is back, bending down to look you in the eye, smiling.
"Thrice upon a time. Can you believe it? Say, do you know what comes after thrice ... ?"
But you don't have time to respond. The purpose. The promise. THE VISION. OPEN YOUR EYES. A whispered command: wake up.
And then the light pours in.
You're back. ]
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moksha...
"did you learn anything?"
no. yes? he doesn't know and soon he's blinking rapidly upon hearing the command. ]
Wait. What comes after thrice?
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and light. it burns like nothing else you've ever felt, and you choke on the soil in your mouth, coughing as you feel the soft press of a padded paw against your forehead, wiping it away - `You couldn't have washed the dirt off of him before you did the fucking ritual, Cree?` - `I didn't think-- Shut up! He's awake--`
A thousand thoughts fill your head as you return to life, real life, memories, feelings BURNING ONES you have to KILL HER you must be avenged you will rend her and `Shit! Alive again for two seconds and he's already yelling about revenge?!`
but the thoughts all fade suddenly, like the your stomach dropping, and you're out of the memory again--
lucien stands off to one side, leaning against the wall, hands over his eyes like they're burning in under the light. ]
Shit, shit--
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anyway he's instantly panicking a little at the notion of being buried alive, thank you. he hates this. he's busy trying to claw his way out of it but he stops when he feels the rest of the memory play itself out. everything's on overload, too many thoughts and revenge is a familiar concept and then
oh. and then we're back, and there's lucien, and shoma's just staring for a hot second because holy shit. ]
... [ okay. no sudden moves. no sudden words. he's just....gauging...carefully. ]
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lucien calms down after a second, pushing his hands through his hair and standing up - clearly still a bit freaked out but forcing himself to be calm. ]
It's-- fine.
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I'm sure it is. [ lightly. ] ...this has been happening all day to people. Doesn't make it less jarring.
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[ this is said as a question, but it's really more of a strong suggestion. ]
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...noted. I don't plan on reiterating it to anybody else either. [ and yet he has...a lot of questions. ] Lucien, when was that?
[ shoma, slowly thinking perhaps this is why lucien continues to scream on the ship. ]
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... My murder. My death. My resurrection. The time in between, I suppose.
I don't know who she is either. I dream of her, though.
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...do you want to find her? [ "do you want to make her answer for what was done to you? or at least find those answers." ]
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[ there's a couple of different hers. ]
The woman in the dream? I don't know. She-- [ well. he's only seen her when he's been dead. ]
If you're speaking of the one who killed me, I already did. That one I know exactly who she is. Was.
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Both, I guess. [ ..."was" is telling though, so. ] Did you kill her? The one who killed you.
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[ he flexes a hand. ]
I have been granted gifts that render a mage near helpless. She was a pretender, and I make sure to set an example to would-be pretenders.
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It wasn't like killing you would transfer your powers to her, would it? [ he shrugs. ] Sounds as if she had this coming for some time and you were just the one to actually do it.
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[ ... ]
I imagine death would have come for one way or another, yes. I don't know that she expected me, but then again, she was the one who first accused me of having ambition beyond my reach.
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And that would mean they never would've worked with her, I guess. [ if they were lucien's to begin with, why would they work even with a transfer? ] Would you agree with that? Having ambition greater than you should.
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[ he crosses his arms, tapping a finger against his upper arm. ]
Perhaps "should" is the key word here. Who I am, where I'd come from, I'm not supposed to have any ambition. So perhaps I already have more than I "should."
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[ which is all he says before lucien is treated to...a memory! that i have to handwrite because the game splices this lore so bad i hate aini. ]
[ hm. that wasn't great, now was it? ]