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◣ OPEN ◢ CATCH THAT THESSYX
WHO: anyone signed up for this player plot
WHAT: a band of merry hatchlings followed the thessyx as they left, in an attempt to find their city!
WHEN: august 1-5
WHERE: north of basecamp
NOTES/WARNINGS: animal mutilation; for other warnings, please utilize subject lines
WHAT: a band of merry hatchlings followed the thessyx as they left, in an attempt to find their city!
WHEN: august 1-5
WHERE: north of basecamp
NOTES/WARNINGS: animal mutilation; for other warnings, please utilize subject lines
preparation;
in the last days of july, whispers spread amongst the hatchlings of a planned excursion north of the city, following the trail laid by the thessyx who had left before the window closed. friends of alina starkov — or anyone with skills useful enough to keep her alive long enough to get to the thessyx's underground city — might have received a personal invitation via text or in person, but anyone else might have simply jumped on via word of mouth.
there are rain shields to wheedle out of remí, food to hoard wherever possible to support the excursion, and other preparations to be made. those heading out on this journey don't really know how long they'll be gone: better to be ready for anything. hopefully, those coming along have weapons. you never know what you'll find in the ethyraian wilderness.
there are rain shields to wheedle out of remí, food to hoard wherever possible to support the excursion, and other preparations to be made. those heading out on this journey don't really know how long they'll be gone: better to be ready for anything. hopefully, those coming along have weapons. you never know what you'll find in the ethyraian wilderness.
the journey out;
day one
to a skilled observer, the tracks left by the thessyx originally appear to meander without purpose across the desert-like landscape. the terrain is easy to traverse, dry and covered in scrub. serpentflies flutter around, glinting in the faint light that leaks through the threatening cloud cover. the tracks gradually veer over the course of the day to join what seems like a migration or herd route of some kind... almost like a well-trodden road.
the good news is that the road offers excellent visibility and makes it hard to sneak up on the group, though it is pocked by a variety of animal prints. amidst the prints of animals that use the path, the thessyx's prints run the risk of getting lost in the noise.
when they rest for the night, just off the edge of the trail, a male scorpiug plunges into the camp looking for offerings to attract a mate. the scorpiug will attack, its claws and teeth equipped with a toxin that can induce sleep and paralysis on the victim, leaving them defenseless for a female scorpiug to sniff out and come devour later. at 30 ft tall, the scorpiug proves difficult to combat, and trailblazers should team up to take out this tank!
to a skilled observer, the tracks left by the thessyx originally appear to meander without purpose across the desert-like landscape. the terrain is easy to traverse, dry and covered in scrub. serpentflies flutter around, glinting in the faint light that leaks through the threatening cloud cover. the tracks gradually veer over the course of the day to join what seems like a migration or herd route of some kind... almost like a well-trodden road.
the good news is that the road offers excellent visibility and makes it hard to sneak up on the group, though it is pocked by a variety of animal prints. amidst the prints of animals that use the path, the thessyx's prints run the risk of getting lost in the noise.
when they rest for the night, just off the edge of the trail, a male scorpiug plunges into the camp looking for offerings to attract a mate. the scorpiug will attack, its claws and teeth equipped with a toxin that can induce sleep and paralysis on the victim, leaving them defenseless for a female scorpiug to sniff out and come devour later. at 30 ft tall, the scorpiug proves difficult to combat, and trailblazers should team up to take out this tank!
day two
the next day, when everyone is tired from the interruption to their sleep, and once they've left the camp out of sight and out of mind, the journey takes a turn for the disturbing as they discover the next stretch of road is marked by animal carcasses. these don't look like they were merely hunted by the inhospitable wildlife of ethyraia either. mangled bat bones, discarded rat tentacles, and golden cliff viper heads have been left behind in disarray. they don't look like they were left there by the thessyx or the kind of animal that would have been hunting them in the wild...
a downpour starts in the early afternoon. light at first, but after half an hour of sleet, the mild flooding around their feet and the intensity of the rain prove too much for rain shields and shielding abilities to completely correct. they are going to need safe harbor. fortunately, in the nearby mountainous landscape there appear to be some caves, nestled amongst boulders on higher ground ...
still day two
on the interior walls of the cave are ancient-looking paintings, wall art depicting dragons drawn to massive scale, taking up much of the wall and some of the ceiling! around them are also creatures that look quite like the thessyx themselves... and there are other drawings that don't seem to match them? taller figures with flatter heads and broader limbs. the art depicts all the featured creatures in harmony.
as night falls and people find places to settle, eivor wanders deeper into the very extensive cave. the number of tunnels and depth of the cave may be surprising or discouraging to other wanderers, but as eivor persists, she comes across an ancient, feeble, malnourished thessyx curled up in a corner.
provided she communicates with them, the thessyx explains telepathically that all elderly thessyx leave their subterranean city to go and 'join the ocean' on a final journey. however, this Thessyx does not think it will make it, and seems to lament this fact.
the next day, when everyone is tired from the interruption to their sleep, and once they've left the camp out of sight and out of mind, the journey takes a turn for the disturbing as they discover the next stretch of road is marked by animal carcasses. these don't look like they were merely hunted by the inhospitable wildlife of ethyraia either. mangled bat bones, discarded rat tentacles, and golden cliff viper heads have been left behind in disarray. they don't look like they were left there by the thessyx or the kind of animal that would have been hunting them in the wild...
a downpour starts in the early afternoon. light at first, but after half an hour of sleet, the mild flooding around their feet and the intensity of the rain prove too much for rain shields and shielding abilities to completely correct. they are going to need safe harbor. fortunately, in the nearby mountainous landscape there appear to be some caves, nestled amongst boulders on higher ground ...
the cave;
still day two
on the interior walls of the cave are ancient-looking paintings, wall art depicting dragons drawn to massive scale, taking up much of the wall and some of the ceiling! around them are also creatures that look quite like the thessyx themselves... and there are other drawings that don't seem to match them? taller figures with flatter heads and broader limbs. the art depicts all the featured creatures in harmony.
as night falls and people find places to settle, eivor wanders deeper into the very extensive cave. the number of tunnels and depth of the cave may be surprising or discouraging to other wanderers, but as eivor persists, she comes across an ancient, feeble, malnourished thessyx curled up in a corner.
provided she communicates with them, the thessyx explains telepathically that all elderly thessyx leave their subterranean city to go and 'join the ocean' on a final journey. however, this Thessyx does not think it will make it, and seems to lament this fact.
what they found didn't find;
day three
the next day, as the group gets ready to go, there are decisions to be made: what to do with the thessyx, and whether to turn back themselves in the face of the weather. after some debate between bringing them along and returning them to basecamp, the group settles on the latter, sending a few of their number (sam, balthier, and natasha have volunteered) back with them.
those who opt to remain continue after the trail left by the thessyx, but it goes cold later that day at the side of the mountain, as if the entire envoy simply vanished or teleported. low on food and other supplies, and threatened by rain and monsters, the group will have to decide whether to continue blindly or to turn back as well.
the next day, as the group gets ready to go, there are decisions to be made: what to do with the thessyx, and whether to turn back themselves in the face of the weather. after some debate between bringing them along and returning them to basecamp, the group settles on the latter, sending a few of their number (sam, balthier, and natasha have volunteered) back with them.
those who opt to remain continue after the trail left by the thessyx, but it goes cold later that day at the side of the mountain, as if the entire envoy simply vanished or teleported. low on food and other supplies, and threatened by rain and monsters, the group will have to decide whether to continue blindly or to turn back as well.
no subject
it's an impossible puzzle, to reconcile the black heretic with the man before her who is so thoughtful and sweet. who attends to details. who dotes on her, even. something squeezes in her chest.
and then she's pushing past it, for the more important confusion. ]
Cave paintings? [ that means something sentient had lived here long enough to make a habit of it. ] Do they look like thessyx?
no subject
The ones I did find are of dragons. ( or so he assumes. some of them look more like the creature that visited them in that strange shared dream. )
And are rather remarkable.
no subject
Do you think it's true? That the dragon chose us for something?
no subject
( it should be comforting, the idea that they were brought here for a reason, because it means that there might be a way to get back, even if it means that they have to perform some task first.
but it's difficult to imagine. it's much too neat. )
But then I've never met a dragon.
no subject
no subject
( presumably. it's entirely possible that he was just another in a long line of grisha saints, if so, transformed much like sankta vasilka had been through cunning and wile and no small amount of desperation. )
Sankt Juris faced a dragon, but if it spoke I don't recall it ever being mentioned in any of the histories. ( granted, "speak" is misleading, too. creatures like the sea whip and like the stag had their own way of communicating, evidently. )
no subject
[ just to be clear. her expression creases somewhat, perplexed at his seriousness. did that mean he had met rusalye as a prince? aleksander talks of him and sankt juris as if they were real people and not just stories. it occurs to her, bleakly, that she has no idea precisely how old he is. only that he is older than the fold itself. it's a chilling thought. sobering. how old will she become? ]
no subject
( lightly. there's no awkward shifts in her voice or posture, nothing to suggest that he's betrayed himself in any meaningful way — though hasn't he been doling all his secrets out to her, piecemeal, since they woke? despite his better judgement, no less — but he nonetheless tries to shift the conversation back onto safer ground.
the paintings, the first of them, would be visible now were it not for the gloom of the caves. with his unoccupied hand, he gestures toward the nearest wall. ) If you would oblige me?
no subject
she can only conclude, then, that he wants that. intimidation, maybe? he wants to ensure that she will comply. maybe this is assuming the worst of him, but if it had been his intent, it works. she approaches the wall, releasing him as she does.
she raises one hand, and in it forms an orb of light like a single star. it casts over the cave walls. the painting has been eaten away some by time. pigment lost. but it is intact enough for her to make out the massive dragon. she sees kirigan in that dragon. powerful. huge. just as uncanny.
at its feet, thessyx go about their business. ]
Do you think there were more of them, once?
no subject
he is quiet for a long moment, finger stroking idly at his jaw. )
I think it's rare for there to only ever be one of a kind. ( and, oh, how lonely of an existence that must be. )
no subject
how lonely it must have been for him, all those centuries. he's not unlike the corpse of the dragon the adamant's survivors hide under. isolated. ancient.
why did it have to be him who created the fold? she wants to demand it of him. scream for answers. but it's not born out of anger, just longing. the sense that she shouldn't have to be alone and miserable because of who the only one like her happens to be.
instead, she says nothing. just holds his gaze, meaningful. ]
no subject
and at that moment he can think of nothing he wants less.
which is why he kisses her. it's overdue, truthfully, since the theater roof when he'd seen her turn sad and quiet. how he'd wanted to comfort her, then, but had kept himself back because...
because. it doesn't really matter anymore, does it? )
no subject
there is no starspire root to lessen the discomforts this time, to loosen her lips. the desire she feels is only hers. so too are the hate and disgust. her hands raise, settling on his chest, gripping the edge of his kefta. to pull him closer or push him away, she's not sure. she just clings. tightly.
when she had spelled out her protests with the pattern they'd fallen into, she had expected that to be the end of it. the black general would not come chasing after her like some lovesick puppy. she had underestimated his loneliness, accepted baghra's assertion that it too was an act. but she can taste it there, bitter on his tongue, as her lips part with surprise, with welcome.
she had been lonely too, before him. the difference is that she feels lonely again now, even with him pressed to her. as if the fold itself sprawls between them. but she had made the offer, hadn't she? she had chosen to hide her reserve in waiting for him to figure out what he wanted. it chills and thrills her in turns to realize that what he wants, apparently, is her. ]
no subject
it should be sweet, this kiss. he'd wanted to be sweet for her, but saints there is just something about this foolish, fierce girl that makes him forget himself.
and she tastes of sunlight. this thought sticks like a bur in his mind, absurd as it is. sunlight and wildflowers and all those good things that are untouched by artifice or guile. )
no subject
he always manages to overwhelm her. to sneak up on her. to steal control. she'd thought she had the upper hand and just like that he has it again. she won't let herself be led around like a dog.
alina bites down on his lips, sharp and savage. with one hand she pulls at his kefta, drawing him in, and with the other she grabs a fistful of his hair. she backs him into that cave painting that may be younger than him. shoving. stubborn. letting out her aggression in this way where there is no other safe avenue. ]
no subject
and with her fingers in his hair and her teeth in his skin, it's rather difficult to remember just who is trying to consume who, here. and why it ever could have mattered. )
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saints, she needs to get away from him. she has to. ]
Your lip. [ she says, reaching up to touch her own and recognizing the taste of iron for what it is. she'd drawn blood. ]
no subject
but then she's making a soft noise. startled, maybe. and the pain — such a novelty, pain, when was the last time he ever truly bled — asserts itself and he is lifting his own hand to touch his lip.
his fingers come away bloody. )
It's nothing.
( he draws his lower lip into his mouth, sucking. hopes she hadn't noticed the sheen of oily darkness. )
no subject
[ she offers it wryly, though there's something reassuring about this. he is, after all, just flesh and bone. her hand comes up to rest on his chest, feels his heart beating there. solid. human. he's not a saint or an abomination. no matter what he's capable of.
it gives her a little sliver of hope, at least. ]