Thursday should have been just like any other day -- but to your chagrin, before you can get your breakfast in, your vision twist and distorts. The scenery shifts, going black and white, glitching, and you hear an earsplitting pitch of something not of this world, overwhelming your senses. It gets painful, and it gets dark.
When the sound finally quiets, the frequency fading from your head, you find yourself in a very strange place. There is no sign of life, only desolate, blackened earth, the glow of foreign liquid and streams of energy being your sources of light. In the horizon, you see stars that stretch forever.
Welcome to the Edge of the Universe.
There is nobody else here that you can see, but yourselves, and each other. But staying brings cold chill that seeps through your clothes, down to your skin.
[ the thing is, vanille is used to waking up in strange, unfamiliar places without anyone else around. at least she's not alone, which has also been a common thread, but... usually it's with people she's a little more comfortable with. not to say that she's uncomfortable with danny and 9s—she just hasn't gotten the chance to talk much with them since they all arrived at the prism. maybe this'll afford an opportunity to fix that...?
in any case, she looks around, frowning as she surveys the dark, desolate, lonely landscape that surrounds them. ]
Where...are we? Hello? [ she brings her arms close, hugging them to herself. ] And why is it always cold...?
[ ....honestly yeah, this is not Danny's first (or second, or third) rodeo with waking up in unexpected places either. At least there's others to help figure out what's going on. He glances at Vanille and 9S, and then at the world around them. It's...honestly kind of breathtaking. Empty and cold, but the sky is beautiful. ]
I...don't know. Is this some new part of the Prism?
[ he looks around. is there an archway anywhere? ]
[ Welp. Seems like 9S is the only one who doesn't have a lot of experience with this. He, too, eventually comes to, a hand gripped at the side of his face as the splitting feeling that shoots through his head gradually begins to fade. ]
Eurgh— What...
[ Dumbly, he looks up, head circling around. Is it just them three...? ]
Once again, you find yourself in a strange, new place -- a single room, and not too large, though beautiful. The walls are lined with tomes sky-high, written in a script you cannot make out. Imagine the architectural style is something like this (sorry it's hard to see I can't go grab ~aesthetique~ photos myself rn because I'm at work :( ), with a stained glass window over your head that lets easy light stream in. It's not too big, maybe 15 feet diameter the whole way around.
It is a circular room, and four podiums stand in it, one in each of the cardinal directions. Upon them lays a tome, and an archway behind it. Three of them -- to the west, east, and south -- are glowing slightly, and words splay on their front covers. The archways behind them remains blackened for the time being, but you can see carvings along their moulding per each book. ]
[ Danny swallows and catches his breath. Even if he's now somewhere else, that place long gone, he still shuts his eyes tight for a moment to try and rid the image of the boy--of what felt like his sister there in the rubble.
It's easy to let himself get lost in the awe of a new location and the intricate architecture. So much easier to focus on the endless rows of books (Jazz would love these) than on what he just witnessed.
A glint catches his eye. One of the books seems to be shining. He approaches until he's close enough to read: TALE OF THE VENERABLE. ]
[ It's calm, it's stoic, it's beautiful in a scholarly sense.
The book sits atop the podium, and the archway behind it has engravings of classical Orthodox patterns, and at its tip, something that looks like a shield.
You can open the cover of the book, and you read in gilded words, the dynamis in it painting the image of a red sunset behind your eyelids. ]
but flames that full bright, soon fell dark
memories dimmed by shadowed hearts
in the waxing gloom, did wane the lovers' moon
watching as their worlds drift apart.
[ Additionally, as he approaches, the archway behind the book begins to glow. Do you choose to recount the Tale of the Venerable?
(FFXIV Voice) Note that upon accepting this quest, several cutscenes will play in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view these scenes in their entirety. In other words, do you commit? ]
[ in one moment, she's holding fang's lifeless body in the midst of this devastated village, crying, screaming, searching desperately for a reason as to why her most important was dead while she was still alive. she's forgotten about the boy, about danny and 9s, about the whole prism and everything that's happened in the last two weeks—none of that matters anymore. she's not sure anything ever will again.
in the next, she's in this library, pristine and almost ethereal in nature. she sucks in a breath as she reorients herself. she looks around—sure enough, her companions are still with her, but the elven boy is nowhere to be seen. how real was he in the first place?
... it's of no matter, she thinks. they must focus on the now, after all. ]
...It's like the voices were talking about. Despair.
[ ... again, despite her better judgment, vanille finds herself drawn to the tale of the betrayer, her curiosity and need for answers outweighing her self-preservation. ]
...It almost feels like we're being toyed with. What else are we supposed to do?
[ The grief, the loss, it was intense but it was only for a moment. But it'll live with you, won't it? It weighs heavy in your heart, since even if for a moment, it most certainly felt real.
As Vanille approaches the book, she can see its rich, church-like engravings, displayed as well on the archway behind her. If she squints, she can see the figures of Knights Twelve raising their weapons heavensward, and the tip of the archway is adorned by a glaring eye. She can open the book, and the text twists into words she can read. She feels she can smell the faintest scent of parchment and old wine. ]
one soul's cry, a passion dwelling within
sacrifice, a final plea to her kin
yet this bond of hope, by treachery was broke
scattering her words to the wind.
[ Additionally, as she approaches, the archway behind the book begins to glow. Do you choose to recount the Tale of the Betrayer?
(FFXIV Voice) Note that upon accepting this quest, several cutscenes will play in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view these scenes in their entirety. In other words, do you commit? ]
[ You step through the archway and you find yourself in... a church! Or it looks like the church, anyway. It's golden, ethereal, beautiful in every way.
Unfortunately for you, you don't have much time to stay and gawk. Around you are the deceased or unconscious bodies of varying priests, and from behind you, someone brushes past. Notably, you see some familiar faces -- Aymeric, for one, and... well, based by the lance and Aymeric's presence, you think it might be Estinien, but he's in full armour, and it's also blood red. Don't worry about it. He's also rude and probably accidentally knocks you over, not realising it since they seem to be in a rush to climb up ALL THESE FUCKING STAIRS!!!
Fortunately for you, a hand reaches out for you to help, and this man is there, looking at Danny with a concerned face. You understand that this is a dear friend. ]
HAURCHEFANTMy friend, are you alright?! Not too tired, I hope!
[ If you take his hand, he'll help you up -- firm, but gentle. ]
[ Vanille steps through the archway, and she finds herself in a beautiful place -- old architecture and island sky-high, such that were she to reach far enough off the edge, she could touch the clouds.
She stands among twelve others, all who wait solemnly. For what, she'll see soon enough, as a roar rips through the skies -- but far less aggressive than the one she heard earlier in the green fields. Above her, a massive dragon about the same size comes down to the earth before them, a proud roar rumbling the land.
It speaks, in a language Vanille cannot understand, and yet the meaning of it comes straight to her mind. ]
RATATOSKRSons of man, I heed your call for parley. What is it that you wish to speak of?
[ Among the people (or rather, elezen) you stand with, one of them speaks gravely. A king, by his appearance and crown. ]
KING THORDAN IGreat Wyrm, Ratatoskr. We come to ask you of your thoughts of our future, of our peace.
[ considering that she's already short by human standards, she feels very tiny compared to these giraffe-necked weirdos. she's not even going to get into it with the dragon, whose great roar strikes awe into her heart; absent this time, however, is the dread the other one before had brought with t.
not knowing if she's tangible or even visible to this crowd, she stands still and silent, waiting with bated breath to see what the wyrm and king speak of next. ]
[ It's fine. If any of them kind of get in her way, she'll notice that they shimmer half-transparent at times, vision flickering in and out. Maybe it's a memory? ]
KING THORDAN IWe know you wyrms hold great power... and we would know what your intentions are, that we may continue to walk our paths towards the future.
[ The other dragon peers across each and every one of the men before her, even pausing a moment to consider Vanille among them. Even from a brief glance into her eyes, Vanille can sense an endless patience, a desire for peace, an ancient wisdom and curiosity. ]
RATATOSKRAye -- Hraesvelgr and myself would continue this peace betwixt us and yours. Vrtra has found his own in a far island to the south, but he, too, wants for harmony... Azdaja remains silent, but I doubt he is doing anything disruptive.
KING THORDAN II see... and what of your brother, Nidhogg?
[ There is a pause here, as the wyrm pauses in hesitation, her eyes closing and breaking the look between her and Vanille. She answers with a slightly reluctant honesty. ]
RATATOSKRAh... Nidhogg. He, unlike Hraesvelgr, has little faith in your kind and your ability to hold peace... he doth believe that the power should lie amongst us.
[ Vanille can notice the tension that ripples through the Knights Twelve, who share glances among each other, fingers tensing around their sword hilts. ]
[ Even as they appear in another place, another room, away from the hell unfolding before them—9S stands, jaw set, hands clenched, and it's a long moment before he releases a shaky breath.
He doesn't know what's happening, nor understand what's going on. But damn them, damn them, how dare they use her image...
9S has a feeling, however, that there's only one way forward from this. Fine then. They want to play some game? He'll see this finished, just like every time before. There's a third tome not taken—by his hand, it now is. ]
[ Fuck me, I forgot to make a sub-TL under the original post for your guys's discussion/picking TLs. This will be a bit weird then, but oh well. It's fine, 9S is set for this tome anyway so I'll just have this be the TL. ]
[ Anyway, as 9S approaches the book, he can see the engravings that look like ice, like etchwork of dragons along its curve. At the very top, he sees what looks like a mural, of a dragon and woman intertwined. As he opens the book, the script twists into words, and he feels a sensation like snow falling light upon his skin -- cold, but not chilling. ]
children of the land, do you hear
the echoes of truth that once rang clear?
two souls intertwined, one true love did they find
bringing land and heavens near.
[ Additionally, as she approaches, the archway behind the book begins to glow. Do you choose to recount the Tale of the Heretic?
(FFXIV Voice) Note that upon accepting this quest, several cutscenes will play in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view these scenes in their entirety. No option to not take this since this is the tome left. ]
The nice room with the books looks as spotless as it ever did before. The tomes are now open, the pages turning as the archways glow behind them, as if turned by an unknown hand, a guiding wind.
The first to return is Vanille, who re-emerges out of the archway behind the Tale of the Betrayer, and the final page turns in the tome as she steps out.
The page depicts artwork, of man and dragon side by side, solemn -- yet standing strong against a dark horizon.
Vanille will notice the tome to the north archway is glowing slightly, though its pages will not turn. Faint letters are carved across the front, but it's not yet formed enough for her to make out what this story may be about...
At least you have a moment to catch your breath. ]
[ she doesn't know if it was strength or cowardice that led her back here.
though the book to the north does catch her remaining eye, vanille does not turn to look at it. instead, she places a shaky hand upon the illustration, her voice quiet and almost reverent as she murmurs, ]
...I'll remember you, too.
[ their anger, their sadness, their grief, their despair...
[ As you walk past into the archway, you find yourself swathed by darkness -- and you realise you're back again, to the sea of stars, to the Edge of the Universe. The place looks largely the same as it did before, though with one alteration...
Before you is a massive swathe of black smoke and grey wisps, seeming to be a massive amalgamation of all the colours you saw when you first arrived. The whispers continue, begging for you to hear, to understand, to know. And before your eyes, the smoke coagulates into things. Visions.
Slaughtered karakul sheep, their white wool stained red. Broken men and women, limbs and necks at odd angles as if fallen from great heights, like ragdolls -- they may resemble people you know or knew. And butchered dragons, their graceful and massive forms rendered ill and thin, worn away by war and strife.
And at the end of it is an almost-familiar man in a set of armour, stained deeply blood red. His helmet is broken, hair once-white but now dirtied falling in strands through the breaks and down over his shoulders. Wordlessly, he stands there, stabbing the blade of his lance into an already-deceased corpse, over and over and over, even though it's long dead.
Yet again, you hear the whispers of emotions long past, and though this one too is an amalgamation of many, two voices stand out in particular, combining into a terrible, awful guttural rasp. ]
None shall escape... All shall die by my hand.
Nothing, nothing shall be suffered to live —
I'll kill them all I'll kill them all I'll kill them all
[ in the state the three of them are in, they really shouldn't be on a battlefield right now. but life has never deigned to play fair, has it?
the eye resting in her satchel still radiates warmth, but the chill that pervaded the desolate atmosphere of space when they first set foot in this realm still manages to seep into her bones, if only a bit. she doesn't seem happy to be back here, especially as the memories of the words the lights had imparted upon them find their way back into her mind... but just as quickly as they'd returned, her thoughts disperse again, and her remaining eye grows wide. ]
Is that...
[ the realization dawns on her. though the armor is foreign, she recognizes that hair, that hint of a face even if she has never before seen this sort of madness in its expression. ]
[ Danny looks around, stomach sinking at the bloodshed all around, but vanille's words sharpen and direct his gaze. He watches Estinien for a few moments before wincing. ]
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saturations) wrote2022-02-28 08:34 pm
✦ AN UNCERT𝙰IN FUTURE.
Thursday should have been just like any other day -- but to your chagrin, before you can get your breakfast in, your vision twist and distorts. The scenery shifts, going black and white, glitching, and you hear an earsplitting pitch of something not of this world, overwhelming your senses. It gets painful, and it gets dark.
When the sound finally quiets, the frequency fading from your head, you find yourself in a very strange place. There is no sign of life, only desolate, blackened earth, the glow of foreign liquid and streams of energy being your sources of light. In the horizon, you see stars that stretch forever.
Welcome to the Edge of the Universe.
There is nobody else here that you can see, but yourselves, and each other. But staying brings cold chill that seeps through your clothes, down to your skin.
Where to go from here? ]
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in any case, she looks around, frowning as she surveys the dark, desolate, lonely landscape that surrounds them. ]
Where...are we? Hello? [ she brings her arms close, hugging them to herself. ] And why is it always cold...?
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I...don't know. Is this some new part of the Prism?
[ he looks around. is there an archway anywhere? ]
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Eurgh— What...
[ Dumbly, he looks up, head circling around. Is it just them three...? ]
... Has to be this place's lousy tricks again.
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...
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✦ ÐREΛMS OF ▕ THE LOSㄒ.
Once again, you find yourself in a strange, new place -- a single room, and not too large, though beautiful. The walls are lined with tomes sky-high, written in a script you cannot make out. Imagine the architectural style is something like this (sorry it's hard to see I can't go grab ~aesthetique~ photos myself rn because I'm at work :( ), with a stained glass window over your head that lets easy light stream in. It's not too big, maybe 15 feet diameter the whole way around.
It is a circular room, and four podiums stand in it, one in each of the cardinal directions. Upon them lays a tome, and an archway behind it. Three of them -- to the west, east, and south -- are glowing slightly, and words splay on their front covers. The archways behind them remains blackened for the time being, but you can see carvings along their moulding per each book. ]
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It's easy to let himself get lost in the awe of a new location and the intricate architecture. So much easier to focus on the endless rows of books (Jazz would love these) than on what he just witnessed.
A glint catches his eye. One of the books seems to be shining. He approaches until he's close enough to read: TALE OF THE VENERABLE. ]
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The book sits atop the podium, and the archway behind it has engravings of classical Orthodox patterns, and at its tip, something that looks like a shield.
You can open the cover of the book, and you read in gilded words, the dynamis in it painting the image of a red sunset behind your eyelids. ]
memories dimmed by shadowed hearts
in the waxing gloom, did wane the lovers' moon
watching as their worlds drift apart.
[ Additionally, as he approaches, the archway behind the book begins to glow. Do you choose to recount the Tale of the Venerable?
(FFXIV Voice) Note that upon accepting this quest, several cutscenes will play in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view these scenes in their entirety. In other words, do you commit? ]
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yeah, sure
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in the next, she's in this library, pristine and almost ethereal in nature. she sucks in a breath as she reorients herself. she looks around—sure enough, her companions are still with her, but the elven boy is nowhere to be seen. how real was he in the first place?
... it's of no matter, she thinks. they must focus on the now, after all. ]
...It's like the voices were talking about. Despair.
[ ... again, despite her better judgment, vanille finds herself drawn to the tale of the betrayer, her curiosity and need for answers outweighing her self-preservation. ]
...It almost feels like we're being toyed with. What else are we supposed to do?
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As Vanille approaches the book, she can see its rich, church-like engravings, displayed as well on the archway behind her. If she squints, she can see the figures of Knights Twelve raising their weapons heavensward, and the tip of the archway is adorned by a glaring eye. She can open the book, and the text twists into words she can read. She feels she can smell the faintest scent of parchment and old wine. ]
sacrifice, a final plea to her kin
yet this bond of hope, by treachery was broke
scattering her words to the wind.
[ Additionally, as she approaches, the archway behind the book begins to glow. Do you choose to recount the Tale of the Betrayer?
(FFXIV Voice) Note that upon accepting this quest, several cutscenes will play in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view these scenes in their entirety. In other words, do you commit? ]
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✦ ƧTO⃣ NE DᗴFENĐINǤ (DANNY)
Unfortunately for you, you don't have much time to stay and gawk. Around you are the deceased or unconscious bodies of varying priests, and from behind you, someone brushes past. Notably, you see some familiar faces -- Aymeric, for one, and... well, based by the lance and Aymeric's presence, you think it might be Estinien, but he's in full armour, and it's also blood red. Don't worry about it. He's also rude and probably accidentally knocks you over, not realising it since they seem to be in a rush to climb up ALL THESE FUCKING STAIRS!!!
Fortunately for you, a hand reaches out for you to help, and this man is there, looking at Danny with a concerned face. You understand that this is a dear friend. ]
HAURCHEFANT My friend, are you alright?! Not too tired, I hope!
[ If you take his hand, he'll help you up -- firm, but gentle. ]
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He takes the offered hand and pulls himself up. Shakily, with a weak grin: ]
N-no, not yet!
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HAURCHEFANT Full glad I am to hear it!
[ But his expression turns grim, quick. ]
HAURCHEFANT We must continue onwards, stop the Archbishop 'fore it is too late. Hurry! I am beside you!
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✦ [̲̅W]ILLS UᑎBE𝙉DING (VANILLE)
She stands among twelve others, all who wait solemnly. For what, she'll see soon enough, as a roar rips through the skies -- but far less aggressive than the one she heard earlier in the green fields. Above her, a massive dragon about the same size comes down to the earth before them, a proud roar rumbling the land.
It speaks, in a language Vanille cannot understand, and yet the meaning of it comes straight to her mind. ]
RATATOSKR Sons of man, I heed your call for parley. What is it that you wish to speak of?
[ Among the people (or rather, elezen) you stand with, one of them speaks gravely. A king, by his appearance and crown. ]
KING THORDAN I Great Wyrm, Ratatoskr. We come to ask you of your thoughts of our future, of our peace.
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not knowing if she's tangible or even visible to this crowd, she stands still and silent, waiting with bated breath to see what the wyrm and king speak of next. ]
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KING THORDAN I We know you wyrms hold great power... and we would know what your intentions are, that we may continue to walk our paths towards the future.
[ The other dragon peers across each and every one of the men before her, even pausing a moment to consider Vanille among them. Even from a brief glance into her eyes, Vanille can sense an endless patience, a desire for peace, an ancient wisdom and curiosity. ]
RATATOSKR Aye -- Hraesvelgr and myself would continue this peace betwixt us and yours. Vrtra has found his own in a far island to the south, but he, too, wants for harmony... Azdaja remains silent, but I doubt he is doing anything disruptive.
KING THORDAN I I see... and what of your brother, Nidhogg?
[ There is a pause here, as the wyrm pauses in hesitation, her eyes closing and breaking the look between her and Vanille. She answers with a slightly reluctant honesty. ]
RATATOSKR Ah... Nidhogg. He, unlike Hraesvelgr, has little faith in your kind and your ability to hold peace... he doth believe that the power should lie amongst us.
[ Vanille can notice the tension that ripples through the Knights Twelve, who share glances among each other, fingers tensing around their sword hilts. ]
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He doesn't know what's happening, nor understand what's going on. But damn them, damn them, how dare they use her image...
9S has a feeling, however, that there's only one way forward from this. Fine then. They want to play some game? He'll see this finished, just like every time before. There's a third tome not taken—by his hand, it now is. ]
✦ FΛIㄒH UNΞNDING⃞
[ Anyway, as 9S approaches the book, he can see the engravings that look like ice, like etchwork of dragons along its curve. At the very top, he sees what looks like a mural, of a dragon and woman intertwined. As he opens the book, the script twists into words, and he feels a sensation like snow falling light upon his skin -- cold, but not chilling. ]
the echoes of truth that once rang clear?
two souls intertwined, one true love did they find
bringing land and heavens near.
[ Additionally, as she approaches, the archway behind the book begins to glow. Do you choose to recount the Tale of the Heretic?
(FFXIV Voice) Note that upon accepting this quest, several cutscenes will play in sequence. It is recommended that you set aside sufficient time to view these scenes in their entirety. No option to not take this since this is the tome left. ]
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[ let's fucking go ]
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Re:CONVENE ー ✦ N𝕆W 🅾🆄🆁 𝒮TEEL 𝒮H∀LL 𝒮ING̵̛̞͛̍̋̋͋͘.̵̭͍̘̅̿ͅ
The nice room with the books looks as spotless as it ever did before. The tomes are now open, the pages turning as the archways glow behind them, as if turned by an unknown hand, a guiding wind.
The first to return is Vanille, who re-emerges out of the archway behind the Tale of the Betrayer, and the final page turns in the tome as she steps out.
The page depicts artwork, of man and dragon side by side, solemn -- yet standing strong against a dark horizon.
Vanille will notice the tome to the north archway is glowing slightly, though its pages will not turn. Faint letters are carved across the front, but it's not yet formed enough for her to make out what this story may be about...
At least you have a moment to catch your breath. ]
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though the book to the north does catch her remaining eye, vanille does not turn to look at it. instead, she places a shaky hand upon the illustration, her voice quiet and almost reverent as she murmurs, ]
...I'll remember you, too.
[ their anger, their sadness, their grief, their despair...
an eye for an eye, was it? ]
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✦ T▍HE FINΛ▙ CHORUᔕ .⃞ ▍
Before you is a massive swathe of black smoke and grey wisps, seeming to be a massive amalgamation of all the colours you saw when you first arrived. The whispers continue, begging for you to hear, to understand, to know. And before your eyes, the smoke coagulates into things. Visions.
Slaughtered karakul sheep, their white wool stained red. Broken men and women, limbs and necks at odd angles as if fallen from great heights, like ragdolls -- they may resemble people you know or knew. And butchered dragons, their graceful and massive forms rendered ill and thin, worn away by war and strife.
And at the end of it is an almost-familiar man in a set of armour, stained deeply blood red. His helmet is broken, hair once-white but now dirtied falling in strands through the breaks and down over his shoulders. Wordlessly, he stands there, stabbing the blade of his lance into an already-deceased corpse, over and over and over, even though it's long dead.
Yet again, you hear the whispers of emotions long past, and though this one too is an amalgamation of many, two voices stand out in particular, combining into a terrible, awful guttural rasp. ]
All shall die by my hand.
Nothing, nothing shall be suffered to live —
I'll kill them all I'll kill them all I'll kill them all
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the eye resting in her satchel still radiates warmth, but the chill that pervaded the desolate atmosphere of space when they first set foot in this realm still manages to seep into her bones, if only a bit. she doesn't seem happy to be back here, especially as the memories of the words the lights had imparted upon them find their way back into her mind... but just as quickly as they'd returned, her thoughts disperse again, and her remaining eye grows wide. ]
Is that...
[ the realization dawns on her. though the armor is foreign, she recognizes that hair, that hint of a face even if she has never before seen this sort of madness in its expression. ]
Estinien?
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He, uh... He doesn't look so hot.
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1\\ 3
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✦ Y▉U'ЯƐ▁ N∞Ƭ Λ//ONƐ .
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✦ HELLO, WORLD...
✦ REWARDS.