driftfleet | the white noise is deafening silence

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the white noise is deafening silence

[In the very early hours of January 20th, as the Marsiva and her captives drift nonchalantly through the depths of the universe, there is a call. Every single personal communicator and console springs to life, spitting out a stream of indecipherable static and showing only gray snow on screen. It continues like this for a few seconds longer, going black and then going staticky, and then the signal switches to the encrypted channel generally used for speaking to the Interceptors when something big goes down.

This is a little more successful. The voice may be familiar to some, at least through the static.]

Zhade here! I trust I ███ your attention? I'm having some ██▓▓ble ██tting through. Some of the ░▓██▓█ are missing. I can't ░▓▓▓ read on their loc█████ns. [A particularly long burst of static.] ███stening. I'll s█▓▓█ more inf██▓▓▓▓▓█ I get it.

Stay sharp! [There's the sound of someone actually doing the fingerguns wink noise, and then static.

Any messages sent back won't get through, and Zhade isn't there to answer.]

[ A blip of lost time passes right after those words, before every passenger mysteriously wakes alone in their own unfamiliar room. The style of decor resembles that of the Marsiva's Hospitality Deck, if any passengers should remember what that's like. It sounds and smells the same as the host ship as well, all clean and chrome.

Welcome back to the Marsiva, dear passengers. It's time for round three of calibrations. ]

[ This mingle will cover all non-calibration room interactions. Please continue to come back to it for the duration of the plot! You are, of course, free to post any other mingles/posts/etc. that you'd like. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It does look really weird.

It's all the more reason to discuss these precautions. To be certain they were on the same page. Lup still had plenty of time to change her mind, if it came to it. They both would scream. It would not be pretty. Not to listen to, anyway. The whirling of energy, though, that might be a sight to see.

For her part, Haggar keeps her attention on Lich-Lup, not the body on the bed, as they talk. For all her precautions, her thought had been more of the risk to Lup, not so much herself. Although she had witnessed some fraction of Lup's power to be aware of what could occur, there at the tree, were something to go so wrong that she'd lose... sense of herself, that sanity she was clinging to.]

What did you have in mind? I have some options to consider.

[Although they were not exactly ideal, given she'd have to break concentration to shield or move--if she could, depending on how entwined they were. Or set up another energy weave to catch and absorb what might come, which wasn't exactly the same. A barrier? Options.]

Probably easier if I just show you.

[She waves her hand in Haggar's direction, and she's suddenly surrounded in a faint, brief sheen of arcane energy. It isn't much, just a bit of mage armor, but it might take the edge off.]

Every little bit has gotta do something, right? I don't know how many wards you can have going at once, you'd know your limits better than me- it might help, or it might not. Either way, do what you have to, just...

[She pauses with uncertainty, exhaling a sigh- or making the sound of it, anyway. Kind of hard to do it for real without lungs.]

Don't... don't let me kill you. If you have to stop and run, don't hesitate.

[She could feel the energy settling around her. Different, heavy. An unfamiliar sensation, but something of a buffer. It would help, certainly. Being in such close quarters with all of that energy, one could not always trust to reflexes, no matter how quick hers were.

Then Lup speaks further. What a... concern. Haggar had her confidence, but she did know how to flee. Granted most circumstances she had been involved in did not have her pit up against energy that could fight back, and... well, the last time that happened, she had found herself at a disadvantage, now that she thinks of it.

She doesn't like to recall that.]

... This will help.

[She speaks, after having considered the "armor".]

Do not worry. I do have options, should something go amiss. For yourself... focus on your memories. On Taako. Your heart. It will be difficult, but I believe in your... strength, to endure.

...O... okay. I'll try.

[It's kind of what she's been trying for the last few days, and the last several months besides, and this is going to test that commitment of hers if it ends up as awful as it sounds, but... no choice involved. Or little choice, anyway. Some vague, open door concept of choice.

...whatever. She floats herself lower to the ground and moves into what more or less passes as "kneeling" for an ethereal ghost monster, folds her skeletal hands in her lap, tucks the chains around her, and waits. Whenever Haggar has everything prepped, whenever she wants to do this, Lup is ready.]

[She knows Lup's been trying to do this all along. It's encouragement, as well as a reminder. It didn't make the plans any less disturbing, but... these were the circumstances. So much trust was required. Much was... on the line. But she knew her capabilities.]

Then I will prepare. There is much to do.

[Which means less conversation, while she assesses and calculates the complexities, although she does check in with her, through the process. It takes time, as anticipated; the night's interruptions do not help, but luckily, progress is not hindered.

On the third day, she tells Lup she's ready. Her glyphs are calculated, her wards are chosen, she's feeling focused.]

[And Lup is... still there! Still chained up, still a lich. Shocking, right.

She's meditating when she gets the message, trying to keep focused and restrained even within the room, so when Haggar arrives she's upright and slightly less volatile, though the same can't be said about the room itself. Beneath her maintained illusion, there are charred black marks along the walls, scars across the floor. The edges of her bedsheets look like they've been set on fire a few times, her abandoned body looks a little roughed up (though not dramatically injured at least), and there's an air of dampness to the room, like someone threw a bucket onto a campfire. Restraining a lich is one thing, but you don't store your good curtains near where you trap it.

She looks up as Haggar enters the room, waving awkwardly from her corner.]

Got it sorted, then?

[She's... nervous, that much is undeniable. A few days to resign herself to whatever fate befell her has spiked her anxiety as much as it's given her some reassurance that... at least, if it works, maybe it'll make things easier. Because things are very, very hard right now.

She's still sorely tempted to back out, here and now, before they even begin. To tell Kravitz, to tell Taako. Bite the bullet, take that risk. But the idea of doing that is still much, much more terrifying than risking her soul like this, which... kinda says a lot about her priorities. She'll maybe unpack that later, if she survives this. (She won't. Unpack it, that is. Hopefully survival will happen.)

Despite any lingering misgivings, she does trust Haggar with this, though, which is still weird for her, but fuck it. They're doing this.]

[She notices the lingering changes to the room almost immediately after her vision adjusts. They were not surprising; Lup was only chained, not en-capsuled in something. Another reminder, of the sort of energy that she possessed.]

I have.

[She would not have said so if otherwise, but she... understood, that Lup needed these verbal assurances. Especially considering what it was about, the importance of it. She positions herself across from Lup, leaving an even amount of space between them. There had been much to adjust for, and complicated though it was, the result she had decided with was also simpler, in a way, than what she had expected. Better to account for things should something go amiss with either of them.]

We can begin the remaining preparations when you are ready.

[Lup's spells, anyway. Haggar's were more tied together, from necessity, though in a way, Lup's energy would also help maintain it. A strange circle, indeed. Though after a short pause, she speaks again.]

How are you... feeling?

[A rare, direct inquiry into her state of being, even if the answer was possibly obvious, but... being aware of Lup's mental state was as important as shifting through her physical state was.]

[Lup straightens up, gesturing with a hand to cast her own wards and shields that she'd prepped for this moment. Mage armor is back for Haggar, an arcane trap at the door to mitigate the risk of outside interference, and a fire shield to activate... as long as she can maintain concentration on it. Whether or not she can do that while this is happening is a whole other story, but at least if something goes tits up, Haggar might not take some of the fire damage that is, more like than not, going to start bursting instinctively out of her spectral form.

Her body is going to have to tough it out without her help, so fingers crossed that it's all contained to one side of the room.]

Uh... would the truth or a placating lie be more useful to the success of this ritual or whatever we're doing? Because my answer is totally flexible.

[Her brows knit slightly.]

... I am not the one you would need to placate. I only wish for you to be... certain, before we go on.

[But this was a highly unusual situation and it required much from both of them. Readiness. Trust.

And at least one of them needed to remain confident, and so:]

Focus on yourself, as you have been. We will do this together.

[Lup bites back a snarky reply and just... pauses. Breathes. Bows her head and focuses on those words. Much like Taako her first instinct is to shrug it off and fake it, or simply compartmentalize those fears, but allowing herself to feel is what powers her in this form. Liches are fueled by raw emotion; they draw strength upon it, they intertwine their very existence with the memories that caused those feelings to manifest. Back when she was fighting the Hunger, she pulled upon her wrath, her rage, her hatred and grief over everything they'd lost and all the worlds they'd failed to save, her frustration of the endless cycle that had become their lives, and how their journey had changed all of them irrevocably.

But... her lich soul was more than that. It was compassion, loyalty, love.

Taako's voice as he woke her that morning, the taste of his food, his intimate knowledge of all her favourite things as he guided her step by step through her best day ever. The calming strength of his smile as he accepted her decision without argument, trusting her to find him again on the other side.

Barry's reassurance, his careful research, his brilliant, logical mind that acted as such perfect foil for her own thoughts and theories. His hands, wrapped tightly around her own, his lips against hers. His eyes soft and warm and determined, focused only on her.

"I got this."

You're not here. The others aren't here. Not Lucy, or Merle, or the captain. Seven birds, down to two and a half.

We were always better as a team, but just because it isn't you doesn't mean that we had to go it alone. After everything... I learned my lesson.

Finally she looks up again, determined now, and nods her head.]

I'm ready.

[I got this. We got this.]

[She waits patiently for Lup to deliberate her readiness.

It was interesting, in a way, just how different their states were. Everything about Lup's form was intense; the energy, the emotions, the fact that she could hold on to memory in such a way. To be able to aid her at all in such a way felt compelling, when Haggar had gone for so long not realizing that there was a part of her that could still feel such things.

Whether she chose to go through it or change her mind, she would still respect either answer. This was a choice. Haggar... did not often give choices to people. At least not before the fleet. Being able to do so, and to take so much caution, so much care for the other person... if she thought too much about the ramifications of that, it might be overwhelming.

But there's not much longer to think, once Lup looks up and responds and -- importantly, seems to carry that renewed certainty in her.

Haggar bows her head, and stoops to the floor.]

... Good. Then let us begin.

[And hold on tight.

She closes her eyes, breathes in deeply, and begins setting up her wardings, the first set of patterns and glyphs set crawling across the walls and floor.

Then, a new set of patterns emerges, blossoming out like identical flowers beneath where Haggar kneels and where Lup is chained. They are not yet activated; she has to apply her energy to it, but it's still a complex process, checking everything to make certain it's in place correctly, that it feels right.]

[The anticipation and uncertainty of it might just be the worst part- for days, she's waited and worried and wondered (which is probably why the room looks as bad as it does, in truth), and now here she is again waiting for the real moment to come, as Haggar preps and establishes her spell points. But there is one benefit to this stage of waiting: she can watch, now, and Lup, being the arcanist, wizard, and lover of all things magic that she is, can't help but feel fascinated. Every new glyph that appears is scrutinized and carefully examined, glowing eyes dancing from left to right and back again within the shadow of her hood. She searches for any sign of familiarity in the symbols, to try and better understand what is being done here, and while she finds little that would help with that, she can't not appreciate the artistry of it. She's very careful to sit still and silent, knowing how critical it is for a magic user to be able to concentrate, but if the situation were different she'd absolutely whip out a book and start sketching those glyphs out for future reference.

So cool. It almost makes it less scary to wait for whatever happens next.]

[Hopefully it helps, because what happens next...

Haggar breathes in deeply, and then exhales heavily as she rises to her feet, energy suddenly crackling around her in pale violet sparks, her clothes already stirred by the power she was gathering within.

It's a smooth, graceful movement, as her arms slowly rise on either side of her, and once they are even with her shoulders, she brings her hands forward, and then slowly back toward her, the energy coalescing into a dense, spinning, dark purple orb in front of her.

Breathes again, heavily.

The lines in the room begin to take on a glow, gently humming as they come to life.

And that's when Lup will begin to feel it. The sensation of... being connected to--well. Something. A power like hers but different. The spinning orb seems to grasp for her energy, drawing it forward, but before it can be drawn far enough to be absorbed, something in the energy untwists, separates from it, and is sent back on a separate loop.]

[It doesn't feel bad, at first. Weird, mostly, and somewhat familiar at the same time, like how it feels when arcane energy leaves her body as she casts spells. It starts out slowly, giving her a chance to watch how the energy shifts and moves, weaving through Haggar's glyphs, practically dancing around the room. It's funny- she'd expected a lot more resistance from her own spectral body, but as she focuses on allowing that energy to move away from herself, there's something calming about the sensation, like she'd been an over-inflated balloon and the tension is beginning to ease. She takes that as a good sign and relaxes her posture.

And then.

It starts with a twinge, like feeling a papercut slice across skin that she no longer has. It's soft and barely noticeable, but when the sensation comes again her eyes narrow. It's more than casting spells, more than a tickle. Carefully she searches herself, scanning through a mental catalogue of important memories, but she still feels intact... must just be a side effect.

She allows it to continue without resistance or complaint, but she's more vigilant now, more on edge as she watches the ritual progress. The gradual drip-feed of lost arcane energy is starting to weigh on her, like using up all of her spell slots one by one. Liches don't need to sleep - and elves only need to trance - but she feels, impossibly, kind of tired.]

[On Haggar's side, she seems tireless as the ritual progresses, the arcane energy of course only fueling her intensely focused state with its potency. It feels good--almost too good, as to be expected with such raw power.

The glyphs continue to glow, and she maintains her sphere, her poise, continuing to siphon the energy away and allowing it to transform and flow through the weaves. There was still too much excess energy present for there to be any considerable balance reached, yet. More time was required.

Something seemed off with Lup, and there was the constant reminder that anything could change at any moment, with this energy. With Lup's mental state. Risks. But they had their precautions, and she was still confident that they could deal with any surprise side effects they hadn't calculated. But hopefully there wouldn't be. It seemed too early to question, and the less risk to her concentration the better.]

[Things progress like that for some time without incident, those little pinpricks an aggravation and a growing concern at the back of her mind, but nothing too alarming yet. Five minutes... twenty minutes... she quickly loses count. It's slow and almost monotonous, a gradual drip-feed that over time she simply grows used to, zoning out a little, since her role is just to sit there and endure it.

...a spark jolts off of her body, scarring itself across the wall adjacent to where she sits. Then another, on the opposite side. Arcane energy attempting to escape against her will, like a snarling wild animal thrashing against bonds trying to tame it. She grimaces, murmuring an apology, and tries to rein it in. It resists, of course, which is precisely what it's been doing since this whole mess started, but she can still push back against it, she's had plenty of practice with-

snap

She feels it then, before she can fully build up her confidence, her ability to stamp down the wrestling arcane energy. Something tearing out of her, coiling and thrashing around the glyphs that Haggar's set up around them, and her form hunches over as if her spine had been torn from the skeletal body beneath her robe. Bony hands brace herself upright against the floor, and a low moan escapes chattering teeth. The sparks intensify, looming closer to where Haggar is still working.

Her spell slots are spent, the extra batteries drained, and all that's left is her. But they're not done yet- she's not safe yet.]

...I think I... see what you meant. Before.

[Oh fuck, but this one hurts.]

Edited 2019-03-20 04:20 (UTC)

[There it was.

Haggar could have gone faster with the ritual, but it might have caused something like this to occur sooner, and it might have been more intense. Energy that wouldn't remain tamed, energy that wanted to break free--but Haggar could feel it in the room, in the air, see those steadily approaching sparks, the increased danger, the challenge.

Lup's state.

Above all it was still-- energy, she needed to draw it in, make certain it hadn't dragged anything of Lup with it when it escaped, and redirect it with the rest. It was too soon to waver, but they were close.

So close. She does not speak, though she sends a mental whisper to Lup instead.]

I will handle it. Remember yourself. We are close.

[Haggar still sounds confident enough that Lup tries to draw upon that, metaphorically leaning against her, trusting that she'll know when enough is enough. It hurts, yes, but she's endured a lot over the centuries that she's been alive, and this isn't the worst she's ever had to suffer. It just usually isn't quite so... prolonged.

But fine. Fine, it's for the greater good. Or at least her greater good, which is pretty damn great and good in her mind. She can do this. She will.

By hour two, though, it gets... very hard. She's panting for breath she doesn't need, she's growing unfocused, and arcs of lightning have charred the walls around her a pure black, weak flames licking around the edges of her form. Those outbursts are growing weaker the more of her energy is drawn out of her, but stubbornly they keep fighting against her, as if the very idea of behaving is contrary to her very nature. Which is... fair enough. And accurate. But sucks, because it makes this a lot harder over time.

A lich's energy is the essence of their soul, and a lich's soul is pure, unbridled emotion. And in this moment her channeled energy is frustrated, angry, distressed. Fear licks at the edges of all of that, beginning to weave more prominently into the energy ebbing away from her, eating away the other emotions until it rises above them, sitting heavy at the forefront of her arcana.

Suddenly, without warning, the ritual digs too deeply. Whether Haggar meant it or not (she wouldn't, she wouldn't, Lup knows but she feels it and shit, no) it pulls upon a particular strand of her soul that twists up within her and rejects everything about this feeling. The experience of being pulled apart like this is-

-is-

no

NO!

She screams then, a truly wretched noise that she tries to strangle in a fleshless throat but can't, there's nothing to stifle it with. It's not a sound of pain so much as terror, shrinking away from the awful sensation their combined magic is dragging through her soul. It's carried in her energy, it's torn out of her heart, it's spun into the very essence of what Haggar is pulling out of her and she can't, she can't, she's being ripped apart piece by piece and woven back together inside that fucking orb and it's dark and it's cold and it's

familiar

not this

please don't

nails dragging through the dirt

she fights but

it pulls, and pulls, and pulls

not this

legs gone arms gone voice gone body gone

a scream in the dark that no one hears

find me find me find me find me

a corpse rots in the corner flesh peeling off in layers worms crawling

it's hers it's hers it's hers

don't look at it

curtains rustle and never part

there's no way out she can't go back

LET

ME

GO

With another unholy scream she jerks upright and raises a hand, powerful energy crackling around trembling skeletal fingers, upright palm faced directly at Haggar- or rather, at the sphere that lies between them. An unhealthy dark mist ebbs away from her body as she channels what's left of her power (too much, not enough, it hurts) but that doesn't stop her; she keeps going until it comes to a head and she utters a single, unintelligible word, releasing it, lashing out instinctively at the thing hurting her and dragging her torment to the forefront of her mind. Their magics clash in the center and twist together, fighting for dominance: Haggar's ritual, and the most powerful Counterspell that Lup can muster.

Though left unspoken, her intent is clear.

STOP.]

[This entanglement of spirit, of energy--it was hard to deny even now, that pull, that fascination...

As time had gone on, Haggar had streamlined the process. It was taking long--much longer than it might have taken otherwise, had she not had to be so precise with the delicate balance of soul and energy. She retained her caution, but she could sense, when and where she could draw the energy in quicker, where to maintain the separating, thread by thread, seeing only the energy and soul and less of -- well, the state of the room itself around them. The time for Haggar passes differently than it does for Lup. She can sense Lup's holding on, that inner turmoil--but she must remain focused, logic over emotion.

The goal in mind was to help preserve--to help maintain the person on the other end of it, which differed so much from how she would usually handle such a task. Understanding and consistently recalling that there was more than just an artful array of energy here. It was more than doing what needed to be done for the sake of being true to her role in maintaining an empire. This was -- an individual, who had already gone through so much.

Individuals had not ever really stood out before, if not for their strength or their uses, and previously, only one had been elevated to any height of importance. But this was different. So very different. She maintains. It's close, now, and yet--

It happens, then, that swirl of something buried deep, and that backlash of pure--raw emotion and words that ripple back upon on her like a sudden wave and all she can do is brace through it as the counterspell clashes through the orb, threatening to break apart the process. It barely holds long enough for her to release the energy safely, and finally Haggar lets out a scream of her own as the sphere dissipates and she crumples to her knees, breathing hard.

The wards remain intact, the lingering energy still powering them from the ritual, but Lup's intent was crystal--and she’d certainly promised to stop, at that.

Finished then, for now--but was it enough?]

[For a while, Lup does nothing but stand there, hand still outstretched, her form visibly trembling from the effort and energy expelled over the course of the ritual. More of that ugly black mist ebbs away from her body in wisps and curls, dissipating into nothingness. It stops after a few moments, but evidently the damage has been done. The wraith twitches, flinching back as if stung by something, and finally drops to the ground and collapses in a heap of robes and chains, face down and unmoving. Her form still ethereal, she actually sinks into the floor somewhat, but the chains holding her in place prevent her from going too far.

There's still some energy radiating from her corner, indicating that she's- well, not alive, because that's not how undead creatures work, but existing at the very least. The level of power she possesses has been severely weakened, her form damaged, and too exhausted to move for the moment.]

[Haggar watches Lup, sensing for her energy levels to make certain she's still--present, but that had been... rough, to say the least. That emotional backlash had been something she could not prepare for, despite everything else.

Reality was so much different when you could feel what was in it. And that pain and desperation, that utter sense of despair leaking from Lup had been... awful.

Either way it was a learning experience--there was some threshold there to not cross. Should not have been crossed. She had learned so much about--regret, here.]

... Lup. I am sorry.

[There's another lengthy silence, until finally the heap on the ground stirs very slightly. She doesn't get up, content to just lie there and rest, but very quietly she speaks up.]

...no... don't be. I should've... seen that coming.

[She doesn't know how either of them could have anticipated that, but in retrospect, this is a predictable conclusion. Ever since the tree she's been unraveling, so of course those memories would be at the forefront of her mind when she's already in such a poor state- and in her lich body, trapped and powerless to escape? Yeah, she definitely should have known.]

[Haggar slowly shifts her position, drawing her knees up and draping her arms over them, leaning forward. She was physically energetic but the emotions were heavy. A combination that just felt like everything around her was buzzing.]

We had much to prepare for.

[And it went without saying that Lup was already overwhelmed with all of it.]

More importantly, you are still here.

[There's a huff of weak laughter in response.]

Against all fuckin' odds. Might have, uh. Pushed a little too hard, there. [She hesitates, taking stock of her condition, and then adds,] I don't feel like I'm gonna blow a hole in the wall anymore. Actually, I don't think I can cast any spells, period. So... mission accomplished, I guess. For now.

... For now.

[She agrees, cautiously, reassessing what had happened. Sitting the way she is to try and contain that jittery sensation, from all the energy, the hijacking of emotion resulting in longer pauses between her words, while she catches her breath, from the sensation of her heart wanting to leap from her chest.]

At some point, we must account for what this means for the future. We can adjust... this method, now that we are aware of what the threshold is, to not--push so far. If you still accept this as an avenue, with what has happened.

[We she says, because when she commits herself to a purpose she doesn't do it lightly. Still, it was Lup's choice and she had bought her some time.]

... however, keeping your energy stabilized is one matter. Your... tether is another.

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