Lup (
necromanswers) wrote in
driftfleet2018-11-14 01:14 am
Libuscha IV System Mingle (no. 1)
Who: Everyone! OTA!
Broadcast: sure why not
Action: yeahhhhhh
When: 11/12 to 1/4 (minus 12/26)
It's Candlenights! Or Christmas! Or whatever! It's festive! Go celebrate, explore, go get free stuff from a tree!!
More importantly it's a mingle!
--SYSTEM INFORMATION--
Broadcast: sure why not
Action: yeahhhhhh
When: 11/12 to 1/4 (minus 12/26)
It's Candlenights! Or Christmas! Or whatever! It's festive! Go celebrate, explore, go get free stuff from a tree!!
More importantly it's a mingle!
--SYSTEM INFORMATION--

no subject
You have not yet been helped.
[Lup still had her own burdens, even if she had done much just to listen to these.]
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[Haggar isn't wrong, Lup just hates to acknowledge it. Yeah, she'd volunteered initially, but admitting to anything is harder to actually do. She's quiet for a long, long moment, just laying there wishing something else would happen.
Nothing does, of course, so… here goes.]
Over a century ago, a light fell from the sky and onto my home planet. We called it the Light of Creation, and it was the most powerful source of magical energy to ever exist. The nerds in charge debated for weeks to figure out what to do with it, but eventually they decided to use it to advance a project they'd been working on, a ship that could travel beyond the barriers of our planer system. By the end of the year, they said, the mission would launch, and seven people would be chosen for it. [Her fingers curl and uncurl in the grass.] We were in school, then- post-grad. They chose us. Me and Taako.
[Funny how success both damned them and saved their asses. Not that Taako remembers this, either.]
A year later, we took off, and it worked the way it was supposed to. But as we were leaving the system we saw what we couldn't see before- another plane, looking like a bucket of tar and hundreds of times bigger, dropping down on ours. Swallowing it up. We tried to warn them, but nothing worked, so we ran away. Flew out of the system to wait it out. When things got quiet, we flew back, but… it wasn't our system anymore. Somehow we ended up somewhere new. We landed, checked the place out. We couldn't find our world anymore.
A few days later, a light fell from the sky.
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Talk about something being familiar, with those implications. A different story, a different play, and yet. There it was again: the ironies of other realities and their similarities. Creation and destruction. Dark and light energy. Cycles. Projects. Discoveries that could change their entire understanding of the universe, for those that could live through to see them.
The dangers of the other side. A beginning, with only destruction to follow. A single team set against it all...? All of this too, too familiar, as it warred with that contradiction in her very self because she once could not care. Of course it was difficult for the other to speak, with the weight of that loss.
And then the pause comes, and she speaks softly, once the meaning has sunk in fully.]
You have experienced this ... countless times.
[That source of energy dropped out like candy onto an unexpecting planet, to be marveled at before the darkness chased it. That irony. It twisted inside of her, as that emotion had before.]
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Oh, we counted. We had a chronicler for our journey. 99 times, it happened. Once a year for that century. Every time the Hunger came, we escaped, and the ship ripped us apart and put us back together in exactly the same state we started out in. No aging, no changing. We couldn't bring anyone with us, and the only way to save the plane we landed in was to find the light before the Hunger came. Didn't happen as much as we'd have liked.
[Sure as hell wasn't for lack of trying. They'd worked so hard, year after year- studying, searching, fighting, training. Sometimes it was enough. Sometimes it was all for nothing.]
At the end of it all we were… we were tired. We were desperate. It was getting stronger, faster, and every time our escape was harder than the last. We needed to make it stop. We needed a plan. Finally we figured it out- if the Hunger can't track the light, it can't follow us. And if it can't follow us, then it can't consume any more planes. We could stop. We could save the universe. It was gonna be hard on the world we finished the journey on, but it had to be better than total destruction, right? After a hundred years, that… that's what we believed. We thought we knew how to do it.
[Sitting up, she holds out a hand, creating the illusion of a ball of light. Slowly that ball is divided into seven parts.]
We created these, using the light- seven relics, one for each of us. Terrible, powerful magic items, that would draw attention and be desired by all who came upon them, but it wouldn't be enough to draw the Hunger in. They had to be wanted, just enough to satisfy the light. Once it was done, we sent them out into the world.
[She spreads her fingers, and the lights split away, and each one becomes its own red ball of destruction, angry and violent. The implication is clear: it didn't go well.]
no subject
A year. To learn a new place, to gain all they could, then to watch it disappear, over and over again. How many could endure that and still bear sanity? But there was work to be done for it, work against it, work to understand it. To defeat such a foe, one must become stronger, cleverer, put all they could into gaining more. An approach she understood well.
She watches the display, curious as the explanation continues, but she understands that implication.
She also knew what Lup had said before, about her memory being erased from the minds of others. Another part of the story, but maybe not... here. The villain part, perhaps.]
... a plan to change the rules. Did these relics result... in a different cycle to affect that reality?
[Given the nature of that destruction and that display. There was something to be said for having a unique point of view when it came to this sort of situation. It wasn't as if she wasn't familiar with a powerful entity being split apart and sent away to hide from a greedy, seeking source. But it could not remain hidden forever.]
no subject
[The illusion changes, balls of light transforming into objects one by one, each with a story of its own. A long staff of white oak. A smooth polished river stone with no defining features. A ornately decorated silver chalice. A delicate monocle on a silver chain. A long sash woven together with brown reeds. A tiny bell encircled by a diamond pattern. A silver-plated gauntlet.
The illusion of the gauntlet in particular is violent and angry, flames writhing around it, lashing out periodically while the others sit dormant and calm. The spell born of her imagination can't help but betray her bias of which was the most destructive.]
People, whole towns would vanish, trapped behind unbreakable barriers. A child with a sweet tooth unknowingly transformed an entire town into peppermint, people and all. A town was lost in a time loop, reliving the same day over and over for seven years. Monstrous illusions were brought to life and destroyed everything around them. Coastal cities reduced to rubble by tsunamis, castles broken to pieces by tornados, countless storms summoned out of control. Ex- [Her voice falters for a moment, the only stutter in an otherwise deadpan recital of sin.] ...Explosions of fire consume cities, battlefields, whatever they can reach- thousands dead every time, leaving nothing but a circle of black glass scarring the world.
[The illusion of the gauntlet flares again, flames licking at the relics around it, until she clenches her fist and the whole thing vanishes from sight, and she glares at the empty space where they'd floated as if they could feel her ire, her guilt.]
We saved the world by feeding it poison. Super heroic, right?
no subject
The amount of destruction on that level to a single world, those results seemed extreme, but it made sense; that was the way of magic. The world itself was destabilized by so much going on in it.]
... You felt as if there was no other choice. When it comes to a desperate time, you do what you feel you must.
[... That's not comforting, but her meaning, she hopes, is more plain: there is no judgement here, for whatever that wrought. Sometimes in order to fix a thing, you broke a few others along the way. Eggs, worlds. It was terrible, but. They were fighting something that seemed unwinnable, and felt that they were losing against time. What more could they hope to do but become stronger, become wiser, gain something from that mess while buying time and feeling the burdens of the loss.]
...But I doubt that you would have left it to that.
[She could not escape that haunting familiarity of it, even with all the differences.]
no subject
[Lup lets that hang for a moment, her voice quiet, thick with frustration. That had been the plan. The whole plan. They didn't have a choice- after this was done they had to let the relics go. They just didn't think it through enough, in the end.]
The light of creation is... it's probably a mistake that we even got it. It wasn't meant for normal people to wield, it's too powerful, and it sends off these waves that force people to seek it out, to crave its power. It's what always drew the Hunger to it, how it always found us. The relics had that same power, but it was fractured just enough that those waves couldn't reach beyond our planer system. And since it couldn't be sought after by the Hunger, it needed to be fed by the people in the world, instead. It was... it was supposed to be the safer option. But we underestimated how powerful the relics would be.
[They were reckless, too eager. Tired of losing, of running away. Desperate for a victory, even a conflicted one. They didn't have a better plan- Lucretia's barrier would have destroyed everything, despite how firmly she believed that it would work. And the Hunger would have ruined the world and continued to ruin every world that followed, like it always did.
They were given a choice, and in their hubris, they didn't see it as a choice at all.]
Twenty months. That's how long I could handle it. We sat all safe and snug in our ship above it all while we watched the world burn itself over and over. Thousands and thousands of people died, because of us. Because of me. Every story of destruction down there destroyed us all a little bit, too. Finally I just... I... I left. Just up and bailed in the middle of the night. Went to find my relic, hide it away, fuck up our grand plan, because I couldn't...
[She trails off, burying her face against her hands, her voice trembling.]
Fuck. I tried to fix it alone and I just made everything so much worse for us.
no subject
She recalls... parts of what the elf had told her before, about what must have been circumstances that followed her choice to run, and whatever else that led to her being erased. Though she also said she had some... knowledge of things being resolved too.
All those little pieces. And having asked Lup if she had any plan at all... before, well, this explained that, did it not?
... but Haggar does feel something, something other than just the gnawing familiarity of the descriptions. Power, creation. Was that not similar as the comet striking Daibazaal all those years ago, the power to create a weapon to fight the darkness, quintessence found in the rift and the desire to pull it from all else to keep everything alive, safe and well. Even in the best hands, all that sort of rightful thought could go wrong. She knew.]
... I am sorry.
[She murmurs at last, as much as she is surprised the words even come to her. She had never felt that enough to say it before. But she can understand that burden of difficult decisions.]
no subject
Fucking tree. This whole planet has her emotionally and mystically off-kilter. They're all lucky she's got such a solid grasp on her crazy murderlich soul or half the town would be on fire by now.
Finally, finally she lifts her head, wiping surreptitiously at the corner of her eyes, as if there's a subtle way of doing that.]
...Yeah, me too. That's the story, anyway. Congrats, we're both shitty people.
no subject
Haggar sits quietly, while Lup rightfully has her moment. Lup was young, for all her experiences, while the witch had never been young. The memories that had returned to her at all were all adult memories, too, however old she had been before time stopped. She should not have been able to relate so deeply to another person and yet here it scraped, raw. It was new, frightening, even.
Probably the world. Probably the tree, everything about it, being there. What else to do but listen and wait. Feel.
At least one of these stories had a better chance for a change in fate, for all that they owned their choices.]
You deserve better.
[She replies softly, an echo of her earlier words but even moreso now, with knowing why Lup had responded in the way she had. Perhaps it was simply her unique perspective from... having done so much worse, with less remorse. From finding too much familiarity in what Lup had been fighting against.
The elf still had not been helped.]
All of this... you wish you could tell him, do you not.
[Because Lup had not truly been alone, for all that she was now. And that regret, that perhaps she might not have been, if she hadn't taken on the burden. The implication was all too clear, there.]
no subject
That? Fuck no, not that. He deserves a break from those shitty memories, I'll grant him that. But I can't have one without the other, and... I do want him to remember me, and all the shit we've been through together. So yeah, I do want it, and of course that means he's the only one I can't tell.
[Maybe "helping" shouldn't be the goal here, because as things stand right now, the help she wants is impossible. Unless the tree gives her what she's seeking, that is, and that remains to be seen.]
no subject
What had Lup called it all? ... Ah.]
... it is, as you call it, a "hot mess".
[There was so much Effort put into actually saying that, Lup, please appreciate it.]
Above all else, you want to protect him. Even if it hurts you the most. But... it leaves him no choice, either.
[He who had said he'd rip the universe apart for his family, if only he'd known. What pain indeed.]
no subject
The rest... she's not wrong there, either.]
That's why I'm here. If the damned tree can give us something from home, I want what'll fix his memories. If, and it's a big if- if I get it, then I'll tell him how bad it might get. He can decide for himself if it's what he wants.
no subject
[Haggar lifts her gaze toward the tree, indicating that Lup should take a look at it as well. Something about it seems different, or perhaps it's something in the air that feels different, something brighter about the way it glows, a shifting of chimes.]
We know not yet what it can truly provide, but if it desires to grant it in any capacity, then you will have your answer. And hopefully... success will follow.
[For herself, she does not know what sort of gift would help her with her more unique problem, which is why she focuses on Lup instead. For her past back, her life back, something to help improve her relationship with her son, no physical item could give that to her. She might have to settle for clarity, she thinks, but does not say.]
no subject
Lup stares at it, silent, frozen in place. She makes no move to pick it up.]
...Wh... why... why is this...
[Her voice is faint when she finally speaks, stumbling over her words, a tremor passing through her body. Why? Why is it here? It shouldn't be here! It should be gone, she's not trapped anymore, it shouldn't have followed here here...!]
This isn't... this isn't what I wanted! Why the fuck did you give me this? Why'd you give me this, you fucking twig!?
[She takes one step back. Then another. Her heart is pounding, loud and fast, a heaviness in her chest forcing her to hunch over. She's unsteady, all of her center thrown off balance with this one small, inconsequential object shoved in her face after months of trying to forget that it ever existed. She needs Barry, to hold her hand and ease her back down from this, to remind her what keeps the monster in check. She needs Taako to make her laugh and remind her who she is.
Barry's not here.
Taako doesn't know me.
I don't have- I don't have them- and this took them away from me--!
She wrestles with it for a long moment, breathing heavily, staring down at the umbrella as if it's the greatest threat to her in the entire world right now. Her hands clench and unclench, one gripping the front of her shirt, over her heart.
hold your anchor
hold your bond
you can do this
just remember
he doesn't
And then she screams, a wave of violent, forceful wind bursting out from her body at all angles, pushing everything away. The grass beneath her flattens out, the branches of the tree bend upwards, and even the umbrella is launched several feet to smack against the trunk.
She's all but forgotten that anyone else was even there, but the message is pretty clear: stay away.]
no subject
... And once that flash fades, it was clear that something was wrong, even before the elf can find her words. Certainly the item that appeared before them was not something that she wanted, that she had hoped for. Had her intent not been clear? Even then, there's hardly time enough to follow that thought further, because Lup screams, and then there's that sudden burst that sends Haggar staggering, momentarily breathless.
That... reaction. An untold portion of the story, perhaps. The item did not seem to resemble any of the relics she had been shown; it was something else entirely. Something powerful, but something not wanted. And yet it must have belonged to Lup, the designs seemed personal, perhaps, otherwise why would she have been granted it at all? A bad memory, a connection. Strange, how this power worked, and yet there was still, no real time to ponder such things, when it was clear that Lup was suffering so badly. Such a sharp, piercing pain, that burst of sympathy.
But for this, she knew not what to say, in the face of what only seemed like a betrayal. Whatever Lup was wrestling with mentally did not need another voice chiming in just then, Haggar could tell that much. She was... unused to feeling so helpless at someone else's pain, even if this too, was familiar. Ten years or ten thousand years, pain was pain.]
1/2 man it's been ages since i did one of these
When she finally moves, it's not to walk but to stretch out her arm, hand still clenched into a fist, and suddenly the red lightning becomes fire, starting at her hands and spreading downwards, twisting around her, a miniature firestorm of arcane power. Her gaze is fixed to the tree, teeth clenched, rage in her eyes. As if sensing some imagined intent to stop her - whether from the tree or Haggar, though the former hasn't moved and she's not even looking at the latter - the flames spread to create a wall around her, directed outwards, not blocking the rest of her spell but trying to keep anything else at bay.
The fire builds, and builds, and builds, channeling more and more with every second into her fist. Her eyes are aflame, her clothes and hair blown about in the heated wind. The ceiling of the cavern is darkening, thick black clouds forming, that same red lightning and fire building within them, as well. Her fingers twitch, waiting at any moment to launch that fire at her target, to destroy the tree and rid herself of every wretched part of this. It would be so much easier to let the lich within have her moment, to let the magic take over, to let her forget. She doesn't care what's in range of the spell. The tree, the umbrella, the lake, Haggar. Herself.
Fuck it. Let it all burn.]
no subject
"Hey, Lup?"
just die
"Listen, I had a crazy idea..."
just die and leave me alone
"What if we... y'know... couldn't die?"
i don't want this!!
"I'll be right here, babe. You won't ever be alone in this."
no one's here
"I promise. I love you."
....
The fire burns, burns, burns. For a moment it looks as if it might burn her alive, take the whole damned island and the tree with it.
"I got this. We got this."
And... just like that. Just like that, the whole elaborate show of force... dissipates, released and dispersed harmlessly, as Lup exhales. Her arm drops back to her side, her posture slumping, and she stares dispassionately at the tree, at the umbrella lying limp and miraculously unscathed at the base of it. Aside from the wide circle of death and ash in the dirt surrounding her, it's as if nothing happened at all.
She stayed. She fought it. She's still Lup.
She feels like shit.]
no subject
Certainly far, far more than she had ever sensed on Lup before, and considering the story she had heard, it was far from surprising that she possessed so much of it. Arcane, certainly, beyond what anyone ordinary might be able to hold within themselves. Not without having changed themselves in some way to bear it all, and wasn't Haggar herself very familiar with that concept. She could not tell the nature of what it was, but the rawness of that power was there, that fire vibrant, dangerous and threatening, and she could only sense that this could go several ways.
A chance existed that Lup could be overcome by this magic, and fling forth all of her rage and fear and hatred and pain, all of those other dark, dark nasty emotions, outward in a terrible furor that would probably do her more harm, if all of her rawness would leave no scars on this place. And if so, Haggar could do one of two things: channel up her own energy in a barrier to protect them both, or leave--she was far more inclined toward the former. After all, their conversation had really only cemented the fact that whatever did happen, Haggar would stay. A certain heavy sense of responsibility, an instinct she was still learning to understand.
She calculates, how long she would need to generate a shield--not long, with the energy this place provided, but too soon might trigger Lup into releasing her spell. Unless she could interrupt it instead, but... she could only watch those flames expand to know that anything she attempted would only be disastrous.
No. There was still a chance that Lup would fight it on her own, and succeed. A personal test.
If one believed in a person, perhaps it would help.
And so, she remains, practically holding her breath, the more Lup's energy burns, grows, with that unseeing expression on her face that spoke of her internal struggle. No. Haggar was a being of patience. She had learned much from her own experience. Better to wait it out, make no moves or no sounds, as much as that fire looked as if it could consume Lup and everything else at any moment, but Haggar understood power and knew better - to not interfere, unless that last second truly called for it. Only then.
... And then it was finally over, with the flames gone and only the elf remaining in the ring. Peace had won out, though at what cost she knows not.
But even now, with the sensation of smoke stinging her eyes, Haggar still waits--Lup is fragile, especially after going through a series of processing. It would do to remind her that she is yet not alone here, but it would do no good to startle her. The umbrella yet remained, another crystal faintly glowed.
She was in far too deep now, to pay any attention to that.]
no subject
She needs to get out of here before that happens. She needs to not be here, and... to never be here, again.
Silently she steps forward, crouching down next to the umbrella. She considers it for a moment, reaching out- stops herself- then withdraws again. Instead of touching it directly she pulls her long jacket off, ignoring the chill of the air, and wraps it around the Umbra Staff, coiling it up tight so it's no longer visible. Only then does she let herself touch it, carefully lifting it off the ground with trembling fingers. It thrums with power even with the fabric separating her from it, the grip familiar and warm, like coming home to a dear old friend.
She wants nothing more than to snap the damn thing over her knee.
Ah fuck, Lup, you're a mess, aren't you.
At last she looks over at Haggar, hesitant, as if afraid to see the expression she'll find there. And it doesn't even matter what that expression is- to Lup, it's just too much to bear. For a moment, she'd lost control, set free her wrath on something probably undeserved and had that moment witnessed by another person. It's not as bad as revealing her lich form, it could have been much worse, but at the same time she'd come so, so close. She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come; she can't think of what to say, nor does she trust her voice. Just as quickly, she looks away again.
She can't be here anymore. She can't stop and talk. Above all she can't deal with this right now.
Without a word or acknowledgment she turns away and bolts, running full speed towards the cavern they'd ventured in from, another spell helping her move too quickly to stop, almost too quickly to see. In a flash of arcane light she's just gone.]
no subject
She still does not speak, allowing Lup that moment to recall herself and her surroundings on her own. Perhaps it was a moment in which nothing could be said, and perhaps that was fair: once one was on a path down self-destruction, time and space and even a regrettable action or two might occur before some sort of recovery. No stranger could offer any comfort where harsh truths were concerned.
Whatever truth the item -- Haggar quite honestly was not certain what sort of weapon it is, aside from it's power -- holds for Lup, she had clearly decided to take it anyway, for all it had caused her reaction. Something to take ownership of, perhaps, for all the pain it had caused her, unless there was any connection between that and her wish. That, Haggar could only make guesses at, until--or if, rather--Lup chose to disclose it for herself.
The moment their eyes meet is brief; Haggar's expression is perhaps unreadable to an extent, not as stony but soft, knowing well that there's nothing she can say, and perhaps even if there were, Lup would not be ready to hear it, anyway. It is clear that Lup only wants to run, get as far away as she can. Only here there was no cat present to chase about, to distract. Perhaps she'd find another way to handle herself. Time. She would find her later, no doubt, though after giving enough time for her to wind down from this. Perhaps for both of them.
Haggar watches her go, then closes her eyes, allowing herself to sigh once she is alone. She too, needs time to herself, after all of this, after all this bearing and rawness and who knew what else. This was much... so much more than she had even come down here for. A search, always driving her, and it had always been so much more than that. The area glows brightly once more, her marks tingling in an almost painful way.]
... Curiosity killed the cat.
[Softly murmuring that same phrase Katie had told her months before, and one she found herself referring to often, because of that second line, even if there was no satisfaction to be brought back here. She steps toward the beckoning crystal at last, and waits for the flash.
What she receives...
She tucks it close to her, because even in the glimpse she had it was difficult to look at. A tangible reminder of something precious that was lost. It burns metaphorically but she knows this too is a truth she must bear. And she also must leave, quick as she can out of that sacred place. This was a day of well-earned brooding. But later. Later. She would take Kova to Lup.]