5574/When The Gutters Bleed

When The Gutters Bleed
Date of Scene:	17 November 2017
Location:	Lumiere
Synopsis:	Elites challenge their second Mausoleum, and the Marble Guardian within.
Cast of Characters:	974, Count Kord, 513, Tomoe, 1137, Priscilla, Kushiko, Staren

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Carna (974) has posed:
    A new sight greets veteran explorers of Lumiere. New members contend with the bone-mound in the Cavern of Death portion of the Four Cavern, and the center of which is a very deep hole, into which everyone else willingly leaps. A fall through blackness, impossible to tell whether it was long or short, ends in a gentle landing upon an endless black marble expanse. The only thing here are the explorers themselves, including two natives of Lumiere, a cloak and hat-wearing undead hunter named Carna, and a scholarly-looking man in blue robes named Enark.

    Oh, well, there are a coupleof other things.

    There are two identical stone gates situated at an angle to each other. One is gray, the other is red. The Grim Bone Gate can be used to link to anywhere that one of the modes of transit in Lumiere called Shrines of Light have been activated at. The Bleak Bone Gate, at least for now, seems to link only to a single location in Guillotine Square, right outside the entrance to the lair of a terrible monster known as a Marble Guardian, that carries and embodies an Aspect of some kind.

    Upon the surface of each gate, skeletons are carved from stone, all reaching and crawling over each other, trying either to pry the gates open... Or to hold them closed.

    The Grim Bone Gate is, as is usual, closed until someone opens it.

    The Bleak Bone Gate, on the other hand, is doing something that the Grim Bone Gate never has.

    As it remains there unattended, its doors are not shut. They sit partially open. This otherwise sterile location, thus, has the faintest tinges of blood in the air, and a taste of fear lingers.

    Why might these gates be open?

    The obvious and most worrying possibility is that someone has already gone ahead of them.

    Equally worrying is the possibility that something has come out.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord arrives in the plaza that sits between the two doors, his feet touching down. He immediately turns toward the red door, giving it a lookover from top to bottom as it appears to be open. He looks around the empty nexus, a room he is starting to believe will serve a great purpose in helping them navigate Lumiere.

    He makes no comment. He lazily lifts his hands, and shadowy hand-like formations solidify and pull the door open from whatever side that is possible from. He steps through and progresses onward to the hole in Lumiere, steps up to the edge, and then just leaps off. His cape billows behind him as he rapidly vanishes into the depths, going down the empty center of the spiral as he rapidly descends into the dark. If one wasn't paying attention, they might lose track of him, as he is still as silent as a shy ghost.

    As usual, he doesn't seem to care if people follow him or not. He has his own priorities.

Finna (513) has posed:
Finna, once again in her highly mobile fox form, *CHROOOOOOOOOOO-CHIRPS* in protest at the Bleak Bone Gate not long after arriving at the agreed time. She's slouched down with legs bent, ears flat against her head. It's body language that is very clearly UNHAPPY if not downright spooked. Every so often she just SHIVERS while gazing at the cracked-open gate...

    "Why is it open?!"

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe has been wondering about the change that's come over her as far as Lumiere was concerned she was in pretty deep when all things are said and done, which she'd see through to the very end for good or ill. Even if a part of her just wanted to take her Aguma off someday and fade into the faceless masses of the multiverse. Maybe that's why she kept herself so busy to keep herself from trying to follow up the urge to do that.

She would also not forgive herself if she bailed on people she was helping too.

"This is not expected, why are they open?"

She starts for the open bleak bone gate to get an ides of why it's opening and what might have opened it.

"I don't think we were the first one's here."

If no one moves to stop her, she's going to move past the gate.

Asterios (1137) has posed:
There is a new face here in the deep dark underbelly of Lumiere. Though considering this /is/ Lumiere, that's not exactly saying much. The face in specific is an interesting one. Twin red lights burn in the darkness at approximately nine feet above the ground, radiating an inner light that seems almost appropriate in this dingy, decrepit place. Indeed, for the first time since his emergence into the multiverse, the behemoth that calls itself Asterios is reminded of... home.

It is not a good feeling.

But there is a friend here. Asterios heard of Priscilla's and Kord's trips to this place. To leave them without his strength and assistance for too long would be remiss. The Concord has been good to him- and thus, he will be good for the Concord. Or, rather, he will try to be.

"Because. It is," Asterios growls out, stepping across the threshold of the colossal gateway. If nobody stops him, he's apparently decided to take up a position in the party's van. After all, he can see just fine in the dark. But... "There is. Blood. Something bled here. Can smell it."

"Careful," he calls to the others. As he advances, the enormous iron chains shackled to his arms and legs clatter and rake ominously across the ground. He turns his senses into the dark murk ahead. They must be cautious. They must be aware of the world that surrounds them.

Priscilla has posed:
    After the exhausting grind of the past couple of weeks, Priscilla is not happy to be back here. She had dedicated a frankly unusual amount of her time, effort, and on more than one occasion, blood to this venture, but the rapidly accelerating string of strange and incomprehensible events, cryptic clues, revolting circumstances, oppressively gross environments, and endless ambushes as they near the most intense, finally stretch of Lostrata, has been a lot for her to deal with.

    Oddly, it is the presence with her that she had felt the other day, even if only just barely, that encourages her to return. She isn't totally sure why. It's not quite a feeling of safety and support. After all, she always has a bunch of other Elites with her. Perhaps, she thinks to herself without saying, she feels compelled by the idea that something or someone here is waiting for her. Relying on her.

    And then she also has the unfinished business of the unpainted soul inside of her.

    "Let us hope the gate signifies an end to the vileness of Lostrata, and that there shalt be others of its ilk; nothing more. I ill like the idea of such a strange addition being caused by something irredeemably unusual. One of the last things we wouldst need now is an irregularity so near the end of the path."

    She actually peeks through the Crimson gate this time (though not before becoming invisible, as is the only safe and sane thing here), giving it a short look around on the other end to see where it leads. If it's as simple as the plaza, with nothing overtly threatening or wrong about it compared to last time, that's where she'll forge on.

Kushiko has posed:
The terrain, the places they go tends to define precisely what kind of Warframe that any one will actually see out of Kushiko; in places where they might be headed here, Mesa would likely be a very good choice! Time will tell, however when it all came together.

Nonetheless, sporting the cape-like syandana, a 'hat' helmet that made her look all the more like a Western gunslinger, Mesa was very well demonstrating the whole 'gunslinger' role that she oft took when this Warframe was in use. Both offensively and defensively, but time would tell which would be needed.

She bobbed her head slightly once she saw Enark and Carna, as well as the others--making a disgruntled sound at Kord pressing ahead.

<"One of these days, he's going to have to wait and he's going to just /explode/ with impatience."> Still, she can't quite fault him for wanting to advance--yes she feels the Fear here but at the same time it's the kind of sensation that switches on the hunter, the Tenno's instincts turning to one thing--hunt and exterminate. A passing 'glance' is given in Asterios' direction--the minotaur might see as the Warframe's expression being well--nothing. Wrapped up in some kind of weird synthetic thing, the eyeless battle construct swiftly moving past the open gate.

There's Unlit--and more importantly, a Marble Guardian to find, twin elegant machine pistols drawn and readied.

Staren has posed:
    "Maybe all the other gates are open and the first one was weird. Maybe every gate is different. We don't have enough data to tell." Staren observes to the fox.

    To Asterios, he comments, "Really? Something bled? I would have thought most things here are too dead to bleed... Although, some places sure do have an awful lot of blood."

    To Priscilla: "End of the path? Didn't Enark say there are like fourteen worlds to go through? It seems we've barely started."

    Staren's back in his organic body today, inside his armor as usual. He's still not sure about potential long-term effects of just staying a robot. And since their objective today is the Marble Guardian, he too checks the red gate to confirm it at least appears to lead to where it did before: That's good enough for him. He'll proceed through, and even down the stairs to the Marble Guardian's lair, as long as others accompany him.

    "Hellooooooo. Computer?" He calls, before going down. Also cycling his armor's wireless through various connection protocols to see if anything prompts a connection, somehow.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Carna gives Asterios a look-over suspiciously, but when he is deemed an ally rather than a threat, she seems to pay no further concern for him. Whenever Carna meets someone, she automatically slots them under a mental list of people to kill or people not to kill right now. Asterios falls under the latter. So he's okay.

    Enark seems slightly more startled by the minotaur, though upon recognizing the voice from the radio, he smiles and bows his head in greeting. "Good to finally meet you in person. I am Enark. The anti-social one who took off ahead of everyone else is Count Kord, and this other anti-social one is--" he pauses as he realizes the person he is gesturing to is already on the move and headed through the Bleak Bone Gate after several other people go through without incident, verifying its safety. "...Carna."

    He sighs and follows along. Asterios may wish to be at the front, but with so many other people running ahead, that may prove an obstacle. Enark, at least, seems to be comfortable not being the first one to be attacked upon encountering some new awfulness.

    As Kord rushes through the Bleak Bone Gate, he finds that on the other side is... The place he just left? No, it's a little bit different. Still a vast dark area, with black marble expanse, with two gates. But across the impossibly far 'ceiling' of this place, a circuit-board-like pattern occasionally illuminates with the passage of some strange green energy, and the black floor, under any light source, is revealed to be inscribed with glyphs and runes. Further, there is a second Grim Bone Gate here. But both this one and the Bleak Bone Gate on 'this' end are flanked by pillars of some kind. The two alongside the Bleak Bone Gate have chains and restraints, blood stains and corruption mold on them, and the two alongside the Grim Bone Gate have the image of a child and a small animal reaching upwards on one pillar, and a semi-circle with a large, slender hand and arm extending down from it on the other.

    This is definitely not the Mausoleum Entrance in Guillotine Square, but once everyone is through, the red gates click shut, and then open again behind them, and the new destination is that very hole they sought. So Kord has to wait a bit before taking off from the rest of the group. But he does get his chance to do so, bypassing the winding ramp of corpses turned to charcoal. The black ashes and charcoal dust rise up with each step those who can not fly take upon it, and it gives under their weight in places, but just enough to leave foot prints (or hoofprints!?). Still, the sturdiness of such a haphazard ramp is definitely a question on the minds of those who utilize it, right up until they reach the bottom.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Kord discovers it first, followed by anyone else who ran ahead without stopping to investigate that new space or make sure the rest are with them. There is no floor waiting for them at the bottom. They step off the ramp one at a time, expecting a short drop to a visible surface below, only to fall down only a very unstable, soft, and yieling surface. It wobbles and sways under them, threatening to dump them off at any moment. What was previously just a trace of blood is now extremely pungent, as is the intense choking stench of all manner of other dead and rotting things. At least bodily waste seems to be absent, and garbage in general. But that is little comfort when they realize they are standing on (or flying above) a huge lump of flesh and fat stitched together into a sort of meat raft, floating in a river of red slurry.

    Providing their own light reveals even further horror in the form of the limbs, torsos, organs, heads and faces (intact, partially so, or otherwise) floating in this charnel river, and the fact that the air is so thick with blood that it has turned red. Every breath draws a red mist into one's lungs. Coughing it out is likely to be a recurring requirement in this place, growing ever more taxing the further in they go.

    The ceiling is very low beyond this initial entry point, requiring crouching for the taller among them, and even the normal human-sized have to watch their heads, as it seems there are hooks, chains, and random dips in the ceiling for no discernible reason except to dissuade and maim flyers.

    Enark is quite pale, and as he does not need to breathe except to speak, due to being Dead, he keeps his mouth tightly shut and draws not a breath. He will not be talking much in here, it seems.

    Once everyone has arrived on this meat glob, it seems to just start drifting and moving down the river on its own, carrying them through the tunnel.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord does not land on the raft of meat. No, after he descends into the dark, and the blood nearly chokes his lungs -- not quite as bad as it could be, thanks to constantly wearing a face mask under that weird bird helmet of his -- he hovers above the ground with his wings manifest behind him, two large, flat appendages with claw-like digits on the ends. They don't seem to connect to him so much as manifest as translucent mass from behind his back, like a chunk of his soul was sticking out, so it might look a little strange.

    It is probably a mercy for the others that the cramped quarters make sure that his silent flight over the sea of blood is slow enough to make out his silhouette ahead of the raft in the dark. He may also be taking it slow because he can't see past the surface of the blood beneath him, and because it stinks in here so bad he is having trouble keeping down his lunch. Which is a feat, for him.

    He tries very hard to keep an eye on the red beneath him, because even the corpse bits can't be trusted. Healthy paranoia.

Finna (513) has posed:
The arrival of Asterios is something Finna regards with little ceremony. A simple glance over her shoulder in fox form, a sniff at the air, and she seems to be comfortable with his presence. The little fox *YIPS* at the horned man in greeting, but instead of bounding his way... she instead pounces off to the side and lands next to Enark.

    Well knows the importance of this man to the cause. The only one with a clue about the place. Someone needs to stay near him and guard him... and protection is a Lunar specialty!

    The vixen clamps her teeth on his clothes and gives a gentle tug for attention! Then politely but eagerly asks, "Scholar. Where is the moon?"

    Anything to get her mind off of the gate ahead...

    But she soon has to enter along with the others...

    The moment the way back seals itself, she begins to growl ever so faintly, fur standing on end.

    She has no problem with the ramp, her tiny footsteps far too light and bolstered with Lunar grace to burden it or even disturb dust - she's hardly even leaving any pawprints in the dust itself! How strange.

    But never does she go too far ahead of Enark.

    Onto the weird meat raft... at least once it's identified as such. Finna pokes and prods the thing with claws and her nose a few times, distrusting such a thing. But they have no choice. No choice but to... "Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeks! Stink's like a Great Terror's ass in here." No, it's not the pool of blood and guts and gore that bothers her. She's only slightly unnerved by Faces In The Yuck. What really gets to her is the smell. As the ride goes on and on... Finna starts to look a bit wobbly and ill.

Staren has posed:
    @Finna: "Wouldn't the moon be above the surface, wherever that is? If we can even reach it. This might be a simulation rather than some physical underworld."

    Hmm. So now there's a second... gate room, for lack of a better phrase. Staren wonders what's out in the darkness. He should return with scouting drones later.

    No reply from ther computer. Yeah, it'd be too convenient if he could just call it up and get some answers, wouldn't it? And then the marble guardian's lair... has jell-o for a floor? No, this is... flesh? Floating in who knows what? He immediately switches to internal air to avoid breathing blood.

    "Are you sure you want to come in here? It seems... more hazardous than normal." Staren asks Enark, but then the raft FLOATS AWAY FROM THE STAIRS. Hopefully wherever they're going has another Shrine of Light or this is just gonna be a bad day. Staren sighs, holding a hand to his helmet, and moves towards the front of the raft. May as well see whatever it is they're floating towards.

Asterios (1137) has posed:
Door Paralysis is a silly and unnecessary thing. It's a door. It's made to be passed through. If it wasn't, then it would be a wall.

"Am... Asterios," Asterios answers to Enark and his... distressingly silent companion. "Know Kord. Already. And Prisiclla. Are... friends."

Even if it might be one-sided.

"Hope we can... also. Be friends."

With that said, the minotaur proceeds ahead, a gigantic axe clutched in each hand. With a quiet grunt, he prepares himself for what lies ahead.

A few moments later...

The meat raft shifts and splashes in the bloody river as the giant makes splashdown. Asterios growls as the stench of blood fills his world. Even more, now, it reminds him of... home. But this place, the blood is so much fresher. There's so much more of it. And the thing underneath him, is...

"...Meat." Asterios rumbles as the raft shifts and bobs. "So much... blood. Not good. Mmn." Crimson eyes glare out into the murk. He drops low, his mane standing on end as his heartbeat quickens. Kord is out in front. Everyone else is all around. Good.

For now.

Kushiko has posed:
Well this is going to be interesting. As much as Kushiko may be moving to keep up with and be ready to do some fighting at any point, the terrain, the way things look, like the pillars, the gates themselves--that ... circuit pattern? Hnn.

It's the kind of thing she makes sure her visual sensors on her suit properly documents before she continues on. At least until she has to wait a little, but takes time to briefly activate an ability of hers, twirling her guns briefly as energy blossoms like wispy tendrils from her hands. This makes a 'lasso' (as much as it could be said) of energy revolving around her, like a little satellite. It goes all the way in, then all the way out, providing a light source and buffing her own damage.

Randomly, the lasso will jump a copy of itself to other people, but right now, it settles in a looping arc around Tomoe. In the meantime, her progression isn't as potentially hampered as much; the Warframe itself is a sealed system. Whatver organic components lie within do not require breathing, and oxygenation is handled by the technorganic aspect of it.

As for actually progressing, given that the ceiling of the tunnel with the meat raft has a nasty ceiling, she's actually pretty glad she didn't bring along an Archwing delivery system to follow her down here; flying as he does might be a pretty big pain in the ass. But what she /can/ do is take advantage of her own prodigius dexterity and ninja skills to navigate off of the meat raft /using/ those chains to bound off of them and the walls, sometimes simply 'gripping' to the walls and parts of the ceiling like a spider.

In theory. Either way, she's keen on keeping overwatch. <"No, not good at all,"> the odd, presenceless voice remarks towards the minotaur.

Priscilla has posed:
    When Priscilla's feet hit the squishy, revolting raft, rather than immediately gagging, grabbing her nose, commenting on the hideous sight, or questioning where they're going, the crossbreed instantly, /explosively/ sighs. Every day for the past couple of weeks, every time she thinks she's prepared for what is ahead, and the worst of it must be over . . .

    "Lords I hate this place."

    Priscilla takes a bit of time getting out a small cloth and a wad of what looks to be some kind of bright purple moss, fashioning a crude smog mask out of it, partially to ward against the smell a little bit, but predominantly for the very plausible chance that the air itself could be diseased or poisonous. She'd sit down to avoid all the random hooks, but she really doesn't want to touch the raft any more than necessary, and so just holds aloft Moonlight as a soft sort of intensely magical torch, brushing the dangling implements aside with its blade of magic as they go.

Tomoe has posed:
While Tomoe is eager to fly here not that she can? Today is not the day for it not given this place. No that would be a very bad idea, she does however chast that small light spell she's prone to using before she goes further. Kord is ahead of her and then she sees it as she follows him in. Shelook at this place it's like a copy, but there's osmething else it's different something has almost tainted things here for lack of a better word in her mind.

She wouldbe taking in the entance she would be on her guard and she looks upt, ya flying in here would be a very bad idea.

"This ... ugg I should keep expecting things like this here."

Carna (974) has posed:
    Upon looking around the strange other place on the other side of the gate, and then finding the gate closing and changing destinations behind them, Enark was filled with apprehension. But it became even worse when they got down below. Carna ducks a bit, finding no reason to stand tall and risk losing her head in this place. Hopefully Kord doesn't try to just go ahead at this point by skimming the surface of the river to avoid the head-maiming obstacles on the low ceiling.

    Enark covers his mouth, finding that his skin is already becoming coated in blood mist, and trying to blink it out of his eyes as it accumulates there and runs down like bloody tears, so that he can turn to Asterios. "Yes. A friend would be nice." he says weakly. "And it is good to see you with us again, Lady Kushiko. Your absence has been missed."

    He tries to formulate a response to other inquiries while assaulted by all of... THIS. "The Underworld Moon floats above the next Plane, in its 'sky'. At least, that was the case the last I saw it. In the vision of the past we experienced in October 31st of this year, we saw some damage occur upon its surface simultaneously with the Death Of All Light. The moment when the--" he hacks and coughs for several seconds to get the blood accumulating in his lungs out. "--ugh, repulsive. This is really not the time, Lady Finna. My apologies." He then just focuses on their journey, the only sounds being their own voices and the gurgling of remains settling, and the thick flow of the red river below. Oh, and the occasional jangling of metal as Priscilla pushes aside what obstacles she can to avoid decapitation, eye loss, or similar. A hook through the brain would be an awful way to start this dungeon off.

    Kushiko has to deal with the same jangling noises being produced when she messes with the chains, many of them covered in spikes, and any slip-up likely means a dunk in the river below as she leaps from red-slickened wall to similar wall.

    Enark stays near to Asterios, letting what is obviously a much more prodigious fighter than himself take the protector role. Between him, Tomoe, and Priscilla, the Blue Scholar is the safest he can be in such a place, most likely. He does take a cue from Kushiko though and start placing shields of water around everyone, to protect against any sudden attacks. They serve the dual purpose of soaking up the blood in the air, though unfortunately there's so much of it that soon the shields become saturated as well, and they must view the world through a shimmering red film.

    But that's scarcely different from what they were doing before, and at least now it isn't getting on their skin, or in their eyes and mouths and such.

    He probably should have done that sooner.

    As Kord and Kushiko are moving ahead, they may catch the faint echoes of things which really can't be called voices issuing up the tunnel ahead. Likewise for Finna, with her keen ears, and perhaps Asterios if he likewise has enhanced senses. Soon enough, they'll come closer to the source of it. It looks as though the blood river suddenly dips and turns into a waterfall (bloodfall?) ahead, based on the goopy roar and the way the horizon sinks, but there is a platform on the other side and a corridor with walls that lean inwards, and a ceiling that -- while lacking blades -- is just as low, if not lower.

Carna (974) has posed:
    If they leap or fly off of this raft before they drop, they can make it into whatever area is on the other side. Though the closer they get, they will instinctively wish to go that direction less and less as the aura of Fear grows more intense. They still have yet to encounter anything hostile beyond the architecture.

    Though in Lumiere, that's usually not been a good sign. It just means something terrible is probably waiting just ahead, and the longer it takes to get to it, the worse it will be. And from the now echoing sounds of screams and shrieks of the hungering Dead that echo through the corridor more and more, that pattern seems as though it will be carried out here.

    In the light provided by others, there is only the gruesomeness already witnessed. In the light of Priscilla's blade... Likewise.

    Though the people around her, save two, all seem altered to some degree. In Priscilla's case, it is not she who is altered, but her immediate surroundings.

    Finna, in that same light, can see what Priscilla can.

Carna (974) has posed:
Red Trough (Moonlight) - <Lumiere>
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    The Red Trough looks exactly the same in the light of the moon as it does normally.

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Contents
Asterios <Hair Turned To White>
Carna <A Hollow Shell Of Darkness. Stolen Light Within>
Count Kord <A Man In Silver With Moonlight Hair. A Crown Of Black Flames>
Enark <Exactly The Same>
Finna <Shining Silver Tattoos>
Kushiko <A Hollow Shell Of Darkness. Flickering Light Within>
Priscilla <Snow Drifts Down>
Staren <A Mechanical Hand Rests On His Shoulder>
Tomoe <Blinding White>

Count Kord has posed:
    As a matter of fact, Kord uses his armored hands to push chains and hooks out of the way as he moves. He does not, in fact, skim the surface of the river, just keeping ahead of the group enough to warn of any potential obstacles. And when they get to the end of the line, the blood dips down and presumably runs to something deep beneath them. He floats over the gap, glancing down into the abyss and silently hoping he doesn't see anything through the fog of blood it creates. He then comes up for a landing, but turns around.
    Then he extends his hands outward and sweeps them out to both sides in that way a conductor might, and the shadows extend and solidify into a bridge. He holds his hands like that and hopes that they don't get the funny idea to try to cross all at once. He doesn't know if he could handle the strain of supporting everyone, as he's never tried to do that. "Walk across," he speaks up over the noise. "I can't hold this forever, hurry up."

Staren has posed:
    So the power seems to be working, but Staren's getting 0 bars down here. Mildly interesting.

    Staren gets to the front of the raft to see... they're going over a waterfall. Bloodfall. Wonderful. He starts thinking about how to get people across, when Kord solves it. He charges across quickly, not wanting to tax Kord any longer than necessary.

Asterios (1137) has posed:
Asterios is certainly large enough to serve as a protector. There's a sense of... Primacy about the goliath. The morbid surroundings certainly seem to be having less of an effect on him than they maybe aught to have on an ordinary giant. This is worse than home, he thinks. But it's still something that he can deal with. And then...

The lights come on.

Asterios blinks into the milky, moonlight haze. He peers around, eyes adjusting away from the murk and the dark. Things are... different, somehow. But murky. He reaches for a drifting cottonbud when suddenly something draws him out of his reverie.

There's something up ahead.

A sound like a tremendous beast. A sound that the Minotaur has never heard, and yet instinctively understands to be Bad. His eyes pierce through the darkness beyond the halo of silvery light and finds... Nothingness. And then beyond that, a platform.

There's no choice here. Kord provides passage for some. Asterios...

Asterios grabs hold of Enark under one arm. He bends at the knee, braces against the fleshy raft, and kicks off once the others have stepped onto Kord's bridge with a sound like exploding meat.

The Minotaur charges across the gap and carries forward as the momentum pushes him onward. Something catches in his chest. A terrible sense of wrongness rolls over his awareness. Up ahead, there is... /wrongness./

"We are... getting closer. Be... careful."

Kushiko has posed:
<"We have kept Lumiere close to our heart,"> comes the Tenno's answer, somewhat apologetic. <"But affairs elsewhere have deprived us of our ability to help tend to the troubles here."> The glow from her 'Shooting Gallery' power jumps again, this time to Staren, revolving around him in a steadily contracting then expanding spiral orbit.

The sheer depravity of meat and more is... well. Disgusting, but she doesn't lend the words to it, because she's seen some pretty horrifying similarity when it comes to say, the Infested, where that stuff is alive in ways that kindle a response here. The presence of the bloodfall is something she picks up on, and while the blade Priscilla draws also draws her attention from a 'hey that's new' to a 'oooh, shiny sworrrrd +__+' she can't spend too much time on the topic with the chains and more that she's trying /not/ to disturb before spies a more solid section of ceiling.

She uses this precipice of a ceiling to launch herself horizontally in a flying leap--and literally flies. Or glides. More like a glide.

Once she's landed, however, she immediately makes another gesture, activating another power solely because of that sensation of 'Fear'. It's not so much she feels and exhibits it directly--it gnaws at her in a way that like recognizes like. The voices, the sounds beyond--the whispers. Her forearms vent some kind of hissing mist, her entire body layered with some kind of semi-opaque layer.

Something was ahead, something... beyond bad. She hesitates briefly, before pushing on, keeping her weapons leveled forward, and keeping an 'eye' on the others, since she can literally look behind herself at times without swivelling her head--her suit sensors are pretty good for that.

Finna (513) has posed:
"Everyone keep your head down! Or lose it!" Finna bellows at the top of her lungs as the hooks and the mist get thicker. She's not totally out of it! The bloody yuck and the stench is oppressive to her limits, but...

    With a display of focus and grit she gathers all her willpower and TUNES OUT her nose screaming at her. Regains her equilibrium. And just in time too! Because there's things to listen to...

    "The next plane. After the Guardians?" She wants to be her usual chipper self, but as always, Lumiere's atmosphere is so oppressive and miserable that she just can't - and is instead quiet and passive.

    Enark's sudden use of the shield is a welcome change though! She springs right up once she can get a breath of fresh air, unbothered by looking gazing through the film in blood-o-vision!

    "Thank you!" She springs up briefly and delivers her thanks by licking Enark's cheek, and rushing off towards the front of The Meat--

    Whereupon, she hears what's coming. "Uhohuhohuhoh!! Bad bad bad! We're gonna drop!" Finna is not willing to take a plunge. She is QUITE READY to shapeshift some wings, but...

    Just in time for another of those weird moments where the light shifts, she glances around and ses...

    Quite a bit about her fellows. The little fox blinks once or twice, and tilts her head back and forth most especially at ENARK during the brief vision the light brings...

    She blinks a few more times and the moment is over. For the first time in ages she whispers a prayer to Luna asking for guidance... and then just HOPS up onto Asterios' head when he grabs Enark. She is not going to pass up THIS opportunity!

    "Chaaaaaaaa----aaaaaa-----rrrr...ge." What begins as a triumphant, if slightly silly attempt to break the drudgery and delirium of the place dwindles off, choked down by the strange unknown fear that pervades her the further they go in this hellhole.

    The moment they're landed, she whiiiiines to the heavens and LAYS DOWN on the Minotaur's head, curled up around his horns. "Stinks this is the only way we have to go! How are we gonna get back?"

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe is uncertain about Asterios but he's new a bit strange but really she can't talk given she's a six foot plus tall lady with pointy ears and wings.

She does seem to be trying to size him up for what he could do in a fight, it would be good to know what he could do after all. She also made sure to keep Enark in sight as he might need to be covered should something jump them, which is likely to happen sooner or later.

She's able to pres onward using her agility where need to make her way on, she does not have any vision as she progresses onward. 5R
"I do not like this."

She looks to Kords work and an idea hits her, light casts a shadow, right? So her wings flare out glowing brightly and she'll take flight, but not too high or too fast just enough to get over the bridge and hopefully angle it right so she actually helps the shadows Kord has made as she too crosses the river.

"We'll figure it out when we get there Finna."

She seems a bit amused as Kushiko gets across without much trouble as does seem to Staren. As for Piscilla? She'd be shocked if this slowed her down in the slightest.

Priscilla has posed:
    Just the soft light of her luminous sword having this effect on Priscilla is cause for slight concern. At the very least, it doesn't seem to shift her into a completely different dimension, though this is one of those rare times she kind of wishes it would; anywhere is probably better than here. She can already easily guess the significance of Carna's, Kushiko's, and Finna's appearances, and Staren and Tomoe have explained some indication of why they would have their particular differences, but Kord's crown especially draws a stare that probably makes no sense to him, and Enark looking no different whatsoever is something, she hazards, possibly of great significance, but more likely just because he's the only normal soul here by her reckoning.

    The sound of a waterfall is already starting to make her gut churn and her legs tense, preparing to jump it should the raft tumble, and hopefully land after it bobs back to the surface, having no desire to take that grotesque plunge. The sight of a door, despite its repelling aura of Bad and Wrong, lifts her spirits just slightly regardless. She doesn't even have to do any significant acrobatics to get there, with Kord's help. Asterios is highly thoughtful as usual as well.

    "Mine thanks, Count Kord, and as well, Sir Asterios for thine thoughtfulness. It wouldst seemeth thou art already well prepared for this. More than I wouldst hath expected. I believeth thanks art likewise in order for Sir Enark, for the obvious." The water shield accumulating so much blood is mildly gross, but vastly less so than breathing it in.

    They're not going to get anywhere standing around though, and heartened by the idea of seeing the moon on the next level up, Priscilla proceeds straight through the passageway. As usual, to prevent ambush she chooses to be invisible, but she leaves Moonlight alone, leaving a sort of floating blade of glowing magic to light the corridor ahead, without being a /super/ obvious 'here is an invisible person carrying a thing'.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Kord's shadow bridge is bolstered by Tomoe's light wings, allowing everyone to make it safely across. Carna leaps from the raft and rolls several times until she comes to a stop on the platform. She immediately realizes an environmental issue they will be dealing with, accented purely by how little space there is for people to leave the blood river area via. Kord occupying the platform on the other side of the bloodfall takes up roughly 2/3rds of the platform. There's simply not a lot of space in here, and the tunnel ahead reinforces that idea. She is quick to move out of the way so that others following after her are not held up or unable to jump across in time, but the fact that Tomoe strengthens the shadows by deepending them with her light wings provides enough time for each of them to get to the other side, even if it means squeezing past Kord at times.

    But here on out, it seems they'll be moving in single-file procession. There just isn't room for anything else, except maybe in the case of their foxy companion. The way the walls are angled inwards, as though they are leaning towards them, makes the low ceiling even more of a problem because the least amount of space is around head-height.

    Proceeding up the corridor leads to them coming to an intersection. The corridor they're in goes back the way they came and also directly ahead for an interminable distance. There is no light beyon what they provide. The intersection corridor is identical to the one they're in now, sans the blood river exit behind. There is no telling by sight alone which way is the 'right' way. Judging based off the Fear and its strength isn't even wholly reliable, since they don't know which passage will ultimately take them in the desired direction.

    Picking one will result in more walking and more choices between identical corridors, over and over, no matter which way they go.

    Though eventually, they start to encounter little deviations. Short flights of steps off the sides of the corridors, leading to small tunnels, near to the ground, that will require crawling through. Despite that unpleasant fact, they do seem as though they can accomodate all of those present, even Asterios. But the larger among them may have to crawl on their bellies, like soldiers in the trenches.

    And still, as of yet, they have not encountered any hostile forces. At this point, combined with the aura of their target, the continued ABSENCE of ambush is starting to become more nerve-wracking than if they had actually encountered something. The fact that the echoes of shrieking fiends haven't ceased, barraging the ears and mind, does not help at all.

Carna (974) has posed:
    So now, a choice. Chance one of these low-to-the-ground tunnels, or keep blindly choosing corridors while trying to navigate by what makes their hearts beat fastest, produces the most cold sweat, the most hair-rising sensations? Surely someone is mapping all this. Staren and Kushiko, for example. Carna is certainly taking notes in her journal, though she keeps turning her head this way and that every few seconds, checking that nothing has changed regularly in the midst of sketching and writing.

    Enark seems content to remain under Asterios's arm up until the point where there is no room for such, and then walks like all the others, doing his best to refresh the water shields and slowly purge the blood from them, even if it means leaving gruesome puddles in their wake. At least the blood in these corridors is less bloody, but it's still been exposed to such for so long that the walls drip and are stained darkly.

    This whole dungeon is just nightmarish.

    It would almost be a relief at this point if there were something for Kushiko to blast, for Kord to shred, for Asterios to cleave, for Tomoe to sear, for Finna to sink her teeth into (or maybe not. Maybe arrows. Yes, that might be better), for Carna to impale with her cursed blades, or for Priscilla to murder the soul of, but there is nothing. Just the continuously building impression that the deeper they go, the closer they get, the worse it will be when they finally face something. The not knowing aspect, the WAIT for the inevitable, is growing to the point of becomign physically painful.

    Throats constrict in tension, making breathing difficult. Without the water shields surrounding them, the combination of increasing panic and the air being thick with blood might be enough to reduce one to coughing fits, to drowning on dry(ish) land. Most intruders probably have faced that exact fate. All without any defenders raising a hand.

    Enark can not help but appreciate the efficiency and elegance of this solution, even as he has to lean against a wall, feeling close to passing out. Except, unfortunately, passing out isn't something the Dead can do. So no matter how much he suffers, he'll remain conscious through it all.

    That is what makes the prospect of a Hell-plane so terrifying. There is no 'off switch' for their awareness of what is happening to them.

    And no escape from someone like the Crimson King who brought that hell to Lostrata.

Staren has posed:
    "There will probably be a shrine of light." Staren replies to Finna's concerns. "Failing that, ... I guess we'll have to dig our way back up, or maybe I can get a connection and teleport us."

    And then they come to a tight maze. Staren engages the breadcrumb positioning system AND his inertial navigation system, but he wouldn't be surprised if Lumiere somehow cleans up after him to thwart the former and warps space to thwart the latter.

    After this continually goes nowhere, the constant fear sense, endless screaming, and endless corridors are starting to grate on Staren's patience. He starts trying to cut into the walls with energy weapons, on the reasoning that not only will it make their progress more mazelike, but also easier to track.

    Also, just to see if he can, he checks for a connection again. If he can open the console and enter warp_party_to_quest_objective, so to speak, that'd be just swell.

Asterios (1137) has posed:
"Aa," Asterios says to Priscilla at her compliment. "Thanks to Enark. For shield. For me, it is... nothing. Not really prepared. But. This place. Reminds me of... home. So I am... used to this. To me, this is... only a little worse than normal."

Yes.

This place is... Far too much like home for his liking. No. It's someone else's Home. As the party proceeds deeper and deeper into the maze, and the claustrophobic corridors close in all around them, the nature of that strange notion burning at the back of his mind becomes abundantly clear. This /is/ a labyrinth. It's not HIS labyrinth, but that does not matter. This place is /somebody's/ labyrinth.

There is more than one 'Minotaur' here.

The giant hunches over to try and squeeze through some of the tighter corridors. It works, but barely. He's used to walking like this. The low ceilings and cramped walls, the scent of dampness, mold, blood. The air of fear. The wandering corridors. It's all so familiar. For a moment, the crimson lights of his eyes vanish behind his eyelids. He takes in a deep breath.

Since they had arrived, the minotaur's mind has been at work. With every step and every new crossroads, he has been adding to a meticulous mental map of their surroundings. He has been watching the walls, the slope of the floor and ceiling, memorizing their movements and carefully reckoning their position relative to where they have been before. It leads him to a conclusion.

"Going in circles," Asterios rumbles suddenly. He turns, taking a step down towards one of those small corridors. He takes in another breath and bellows a tremendous roar into the darkness. Carefully, he turns his ear towards the yell, catches the echoes-- and the sounds of those screams in the distance-- and nods. "This. Way."

"Better than... Wandering forever. Dying here."

Asterios drops to a knee, and then to his belly, and begins shimmying into the cramped corridor. "Small, fluffy one," he calls to... Finna, apparently. "Go forward. Find paths. Use ears. Which way is loudest, that is where we go."

Kushiko has posed:
Narrow corridors where one's single file--not Kushiko's preferred system of progression, not even by a long shot. The sounds make her all the more paranoid. She senses and ambush, she /feels/ an ambush coming, but more than that, and what's worse is she feels that whatever IS here might not care. If they arrive at it, whatever it is may well be supremely confident enough to let her and the others wander aimlessly.

Couple that with the sounds of the shrieking fiends, and it's getting altogether too irritating to deal with as time goes on.

Kushiko's making tunnel data as they take it on--plus a general mapping sensibility means they can at least rule out several tunnels. <"Rather not take one of the places where I can't properly stand up."> She can deal with tight spaces, but not SUPER tight. She erects another shield around herself to diffuse the pressure that's been attempting to afflcit her, continually as it has been.

<"... are you good with mazes?"> she asks of the minotaur. She has no idea what a minotaur is, and while she has her guns drawn and keeping a watch on others like Enark, may as well ask.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord makes sure to go in /last/ because of his duty holding the bridge. He doesn't let on that he is way less enthusiastic about this little jaunt of theirs as they go along. He keeps his eyes and ears peeled for anything unusual... but is further unnerved that the deeper they descend, the more clear it is that he isn't getting the whispers of the Darkness down here. He had seen none of the hallucinatory images even of his allies, and that somehow made him more uneasy than before.

    He startled when Asterios shouted, his stance hunching, his hands up as if ready to fight. He was dazing out for a second there, the terror in here throbbing in his head. He struggles past it, but he is not immune to its effects. He puffs a breath as he realizes the legendary Minotaur has discovered a way to progress. He thanks his lucky stars he didn't try to navigate this place himself. Eventually, he would've figured it out... but this is just faster.

    "I think the monsters down here are... screaming in terror," he muses, "It's why the sounds keep going, their wills are not as strong as ours."

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe banishes her wings once she's across and everyone else has made it over, she still looks back once at the wings one last time before she makes ready to head forward single file she'll attempt to move up to the front given her general job of getting hits so others don't have to, still as they go ahead she take time to pay attention to her surroundings as she goes forward. There are no hostiles but the place does not bring her any comfort it's almost worst. What would keep the horrors that crawl about this ruined afterlife at bay? What would make those dead thing who have lost any sense of their minds afraid to go here?

She's about to say something else when Asterios speaks up and pauses.

"This is one hell of a maze but if you have an idea big guy? Let's go."

She's willing to give this guy a chance she has to agree with his assessment as it beats dying in a maze, if he's got an idea.

"So they are afraid, what would make those things /afraid/. The unlit have long lost their minds..."

Finna (513) has posed:
Once again, it's nearly complete and utter darkness for the gang! As conditions get cramped... she rises from her perch on Asterios' head moments before he calls to her.

    She answers his idea with a short bark of 'challenge accepted' and vaults down to the ground. The fox does shiver in building fright, but...

    But Finna's not going to give up QUITE this easily. Not when she has this many allies to watch out for.

    Raising her head, with a mournful but determined screech she summons forth the Lunar power from within her. Her soul ignites with a cool flame that fills the tunnels - briefly - with the scent of a cool spring night and the damp sensation of fresh dew on the skin... although this might just be the mind playing tricks as it tries to perceive the raw nature of moonlight flooding the tunnels. The light streams from her body like a fire that cannot burn anything, a wafting aura that drifts about as she darts forward along the tunnels to scout ahead.

    She's even brave enough to press her nose to the ground and sniff-sniff-sniff, though the fox remains silent - such is her focus for the moment!

Carna (974) has posed:
    Staren's attempts to break the walls yield unfavorable results. The stone is resistant to damage, to say the least. And what marks he makes are quickly covered by the constant dripping of blood running down every surface. For all he knows, the walls might heal themselves after he leaves, just to erase even that much. This seems the type of place for it.

    If the hallways were claustrophobic, the tunnels are thrice so. And in this place, every fear is amplified by that insidious aura that gradually blurs the lines between alien fear and one's own, wearing away bit by bit, just exhausting them through attrition. Inside those tunnels, however, are vents. Vents that look down upon darkness, and the sources of the screams. There is movement below, but it's hard to make out what it is. For those with nightvision, in the light they have with them, they can see that there is some ground below them, lines with many holes. Pits, perhaps. There are things moving in them. And there are bodies writhing on chains as they dangle above the pits, getting lowered slowly, or simply hung there. For those with perfect dark vision, they can see that the pits are full of Unlit, that the people on the chains are Lanterns, many of them horribly disfigured and butchered so that they could not escape even if they were not impaled on hooks. They must have been treated with the same preservative enzyme the others in the Chopping Grounds were, to keep them from dissolving into Dead Lights.

    They are like bait, like carrots on strings, being used to keep masses of Unlit focused on them instead of trying to escape. They scream in pain and terror, especially when they dip a bit too low, and some Unlit successfully snags them, and begins to eat their feet and legs. Before their eyes, one Lantern gets so many Unlit pulling on them, that they are torn off their hook, the sharp thing just ripping up through their torso and out through their shoulder, and then they fall into the pit to be eaten and fill the bellies of the hungering Dead.

    And the next body hanging is brought forth like a conveyor belt, to begin the process all over again.

    Only some of the screams come from these Lanterns and Unlit. Worse than this may be lurking further throughout down there. Thankfully, they are nearing the end of the tunnel. Almost there, the sweet promise of escape, as the Fear urges them onwards towards desperation, terror pushing their pace of crawling, feeling pursued the whole way. Any moment now something is going to happen! Any moment now...!

    But they make it out the other side, one by one, intact, if possibly quite shaken.

Carna (974) has posed:
    And as they gather and stand there, they find themselves facing steps leading downwards... To a corridor identical to the one they just left when they crawled into that tunnel. The only difference it is is obviously lower.

    This place really is a nightmare.

    But a nightmare that might be coming to an end soon. For unlike the corridors they have passed so far, the presence they have been following against every instinct they possess, against their own body's insistences, steadily increasing to rival or match that which some of those present felt when facing the Crimson King of the past recently, seems to be directly ahead of them. As the walls seem to bend even closer inwards, pulsing as though they were breathing, a wave of purple and red and black radiating from the far end.

    Like needles of ice, hitting them constantly, every pinprick unleashing new fear, new horror, new spine-chilling sensations. It gets to the point where Enark's eyes have filled with red from bursting capillaries, and blood beyond that in the air is pouring from his nose and mouth, polluting his own water shield. He has to fall onto hands and knees, unable to go any further forward. Carna gets to a point where the spike of fear is so intense she makes several leaps backwards, drawing her blade, and crouching down like a feral cat. She doesn't want to go this way.

    Similar affects wash over everyone else.

    Whatever is ahead of them is what they seek. But it is highly likely that no one here really wants to continue seeking it.

    But after they've come this far, if they give up now, if they let this place beat them... Will they ever again be able to steel the nerve to come back?

    They must make another choice. Continue, no matter what they are about to face, or flee, and maybe escape with their lives.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord follows, his heart thumping in his ears. Sweat beads underneath his helmet, and his hands flex and relax again and again. His steps are slow as he shadows the rest of the group... he keeps them in his view, and glances over his shoulder now and then. He does not look down into any vents, knowing that the masses of predators preying on each other is nothing new and it would only serve to burn another image into his mind for his nightmares to abuse. When the group gets to a set of stairs, and they have to come to a stop, he watched Enark collapse impassively, and he steps back when Carna hops back to stay out of her way.

    He feels the alien fear wash over him. He feels his skin tingle and his heart go like a runaway motor. In his head, decades of terror flash by, image after image of mythical beings that almost killed him, of soldiers and cultists and brigands and more. He feels his blood run cold, and some part of him just switches off. He has catalyzed a very specific instinct for beings like this. Things that, in some cases, washed him with supernatural fear or confusion, that battered his mind, soul and body.

    He lifts his heels, and he steps forward. Then he vanishes in a burst of speed. He bounces through the darkness, vanishing from sight, and ends up at the bottom of the stairs. He pauses at the bottom just long enough to be seen.

    Then he crouches and bounces forward, shadows flickering like smoke around where he was just standing.

    Kord learned long ago that the best way to conquer fear is to fight it.

Asterios (1137) has posed:
This place is like... home.

Home. But not. The Labyrinth, and yet not. The screams of the suffering below, the sight of the living consumed by the starving, these are not unfamiliar. These are not alien. This fear, this terror, these feelings are not new. Asterios has felt them before. Asterios has caused them before. In the days when he was not Asterios- when he was nothing more than a starved beast. As he stands in front of that passageway, he remembers it.

He remembers all of it.

What does a monster have to fear? For years and years and years and years and years and years, Asterios knew nothing of fear. Death was a blessing- rest from a lifetime of suffering, solitude and debasement. There is no fear of death. There is no fear of the Other. The Other was food. The Other was salvation. Now the Other is something else. Never something to be feared.

There was only one thing in the Labyrinth which he feared.

Asterios stands stock still as those tiny pinpricks of terror jolt into his nerves. It creeps through his brain, little sparks of fear criss-cross through his mind. His breathing quickens, a heavy, ragged, bestial noise in the otherwise still and stagnant air. His heart throbs in his chest. Blood surges through his veins, hammers against the inside of his ears- he feels--

He remembers--

The Minotaur's eyes blaze red in the darkness. A terrible, terrifying roar reverberates out of its throat, primal, dripping with blood-lust. It drops into a crouch, feet digging impossibly into the adamant material of this place and surges forward, building momentum with step after tremendous, earth-trembling step.

The only thing that was to be feared in the Labyrinth was...

                         --T H E M I N O T A U R--                          

Kushiko has posed:
What's that old saying, that the anticipation'll kill ya?

The notion that such a thing is the intention is something that occurs to Kushiko as she traverses the tunnelspace, bringing up the rear, so she sees what the others are seeing, if 'seeing' is a weird thing. Disgust, and a growing sense of disquieted furor begins to wash over her--she doesn't have perfect nightvision, only lights cast by her Warframe and it's powers. Mesa's cloak is getting downright filthy with the blood here.

<"More firepower might not have done it. And we can say this as someone who is capable of bringing someone that uses antimatter to bring the thunder."> she remarks to Staren in that weirdly ethereal way of hers. That said, as she progresses, she doesn't feel the instinct to do what Staren does, electing instead to conserve her energy. <"Reduce it, reduce everything to ash,"> she murmurs faintly. There's a moment thanks to the fear here that's making her wish she had brought Nova Prime, but perhaps it's for the best, given the terrain they've been in.

She's not too dissimilar from Kord in regards to the reaction to fear--but the other problem is is that... Kushiko's not anywhere near a normal person, normal individual whatsoever. She was plunged into the nightmarish hellscape, that blinding light of her own world. It provokes unbidden, unknown memories she can't quite grasp.

As she takes a few steps forward, something... strange happens. An uptick in Void energies surge from her--perhaps in response to Carna and Enark both suffering in ways that are beyond disturbing in the case of the Scholar, and perhaps expected for CArna. What they seek is here, make no doubt.

But suddenly did Mesa just... drop, like a puppet with its strings cut. A twisting mass of something warps into being, coalescing into a body, huddled and curled over a roiling maelstrom of golden and lilac energy. When this... thing, this specter--wait, is it a child? Yes it is. Short purple hair, glowing eyes--no real irii to speak of, but she hovers, a reverbating sound tightening into a razor's edge as she /screams/.

And when she screams, it's a cacophony as a radial wave, a shockwave of pure energy /intended/ to try to you know, buffer back the Fear--even for a little--the red misting, to create enough of a sanctuary point for people to regain their senses. It may not even last that long. But she needed to try, arms at her sides, an ephemeral cloak of transluscent light flowing wildly behind her. Every shockwave of energy had pressure behind it--even if it didn't /tangibly/ hit anyone forcibly, it was like trying to infuse air itself, fresh, clean air.

Again, it might not work the way she desires. But she needs to make it work--calling upon the fact she existed as a borderstate---even if she didn't realize it herself, reaching in between the material and immaterial to buy everyone here/some/ kind of respite, releasing a half dozen of these shockwaves, half-domes of light outward before she'd be literally sucked back into the Warframe.

Tomoe has posed:
Forward they all go her wings flare back out a the light will indeed be needed, and thankfully they should not too deeply get in the way of the party progressing. She hears the screams, they are not people not but there's something down there, there are things changed, things suffering, and then there's the lanterns and she shudders, those who have their mind still? she wonders what they might be able to do for them if they have a chance, but every time she finds something here some new horror. Which her mind had not thought possible,yet for the moment she pushes on wards.

The pain comes the dot damage comes, and the fear the level of fear that comes into her mind. When thinking about the likes of the exalted running rampant over her world and in desperation the people of her world deploying NBC weaponry upon them in a desperate attempt to stop them.

She afraid she's feeling fear right now maybe the fear is because she's become the very sort of thing she's afraid of, there is no setting down the headset and walking away anymore.

Then comes Asterios own roar, followed by Kushiko's own torment the shock-waves come and she attempts to do the only thing she can buff the party's ability to endure damage, to endure physical things, she can so nothing for the fear but she may be able to help with that.

"Pulling out may be ... the best idea, I'm with you Lady Priscilla, we ned to ... get out."

She doesn't really care how either.

Finna (513) has posed:
Nothing Finna's seeing down below is heartening to say the least. She begins to make threatening clacky noises deep in her throat as she paces along, snaking easily through the tunnels given her tiny form.

    Several times she freezes in place and has to exert a tremendous force of will to get her feet responding again. Shutting out what she sees after the first unfortunate victim's munched on. And the second.

    She doesn't waste any time descending the steps. The building terror in her gut, she's finding a solution to. Sink into the animal mind, which has two responses to fear: fight, or flight.

    And with no intention to flee, and nowhere to go but forwards anyways, she picks up the pace and starts snick-snorting impatiently. On and onwards!

    This mental trick can only get her so far though.

    She finally reaches a point where her body shuts down and all her instincts scream too loudly for them to be just simply suppressed. Shivering, she drops down onto her belly and starts edging backwards, making quiet noises of whimpery protest.

    The roar of Asterios shakes her out of the trembling, though only because it gives a substance to the fears. With a terrified shriek she bursts into a panicked skitter-dash--

    AWAY FROM ASTERIOS AND STRAIGHT ONWARDS!

Staren has posed:
    "We should've just got more firepower and dug our way to the Crimson King." Staren mutters as they crawl through tunnels. Upon finding a vent where he can see lanterns being eaten alive, Staren stops to start cutting through the vent, with a plan to burn the unlit. Someone staying a little cooler under the fear aura stops him, fortunately... But still, Staren lets anger rise in him. It can help fight the fear. This is the second time now he's gone a place with a stupid fear aura, after this he's seeking out a proper preventative.

    They at last come to an opening, with a little room to breathe, and maybe to think. "...We're here on his terms. Under the effects of this stupid fear aura. Maybe we can beat him anyway, but I'm not sure we should accept such a disadvantage. We should come back, with elites who can mine through this shit and protect us from this STUPID fear. Or a remote-controlled drone with a nuclear bomb. We're probably not thinking clearly, there's probably a better solution than that and I could think of it if not for this GOD DAMN URGH! Fucking fear field! We'll annihilate this idiot. Turn him to nothing. He doesn't deserve a quick death, but everyone else deserves to be quickly rid of him."

    Still, he's sure not going to be the only one to turn back. If everyone else would rather press on, he'd rather fight together with them.

Priscilla has posed:
    Throughout the maze, Priscilla has been doing her best to help, marking the way with ubiquitously carried prism stones in the good old fashioned Lordran way. Even if something can muck about with software or spatial consistency, physical stones will stay where they fell inside the hallway, so if they loop back around somehow, they'll still be there. The glittering things have a very subtle, perhaps very faintly supernatural way of providing that consistent guidance.

    Unfortunately, Priscilla does not have any especially useful protection from the oppressively /smothering/ aura that drives them back, save iron will forged from swallowing this kind of terror time and time again. Like a mildly acidic river it slowly erodes her willingness to continue, not quite penetrating her mind, but grinding away and dissolving the perpetual shell of frosty conviction and indifference around her heart. Of course, its beating is actually irrelevant to her continued existence. The vital organs of a half-dragon are practically vestigial, so even when her pulse fluctuates dangerously, and her breathing becomes far too shallow to sustain a human being, she can physically soldier onwards.

    Very briefly, she regains a small surge of confidence when Staren stops to bomb the Unlit. She had intended to shut out the sight, suppress the screams, and just keep moving, and hadn't even thought of interacting with yet another one of Lumiere's grisly set pieces, but when the catboy starts seriously trying to incinerate the monsters writhing in their pits, she actually stops and gives him a very nervous, and incredibly forced smile, but one she obviously is intent to show despite that. "Thou art surprisingly thoughtful at times, Sir Staren. I admire that thou art able to thinketh of such even when so greatly concerned otherwise, for the slight good it wouldst do them." She really means it. It'd taken her by surprise.

    She is, however, in agreement about goddamn bailing on this hellhole and coming back better prepared, even when potentially given the chance to shelter within the bubble created by Kushiko. When her Mesa frame collapses to the ground, she has to stop and make sure the operator is alright, and attempt to clear her head.

    "I am in agreement. This is something I wouldst ill wish to challenge so totally unprepared as we-" And then Kord and Asterios just fuck off down the tunnel anyways, overcoming the supernatural terror with pretty much sheer spite. "Lords damn the both of them." Priscilla huffs, absolutely (highly figuratively) not being paid enough for this. "If thou hast any means to extricate us, even if it wouldst taketh an entire small Warpgate, do so. Either stay with our disabled companions, or carry them forward, as I will not abide leaving them stranded in the midst of this. If absolutely necessary, I wish that Sir Enark and Lady Carna carry Lady Kushiko to safety. I must ensure the safety of mine own subordinates." Then, Priscilla has the pretty terrible job of chasing after the two. Especially Asterios. He's never been here before, and that might not work out well with how many godawful surprises Lumiere takes such glee in throwing at people.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Enark can not go forward any further. Physically can't. As Carna looks upon him, and then upon those who push forwards, feeling the warring instincts of survival and drive to consume the power before her, she has to make a choice. While she tracks her crimson eyes to Asterios, reconsidering whether this is someone to keep in the 'don't kill right now' list or not when she realizes the threat posed, Enark coughs blood out of his lungs, and it is no longer just what he inhaled from the air.

    The noise grates on her already-freayed nerves. Only her nature as a Lantern has kept her plugging along beside everyone else. She is used to fear. She always fears. There is not a moment that passes when it is truly absent. Paranoia and suspicion are rampant within her, egged on by the voices of the Darkness that she has always ignored. Unlike Priscilla and others who shut it out from the start, not listening doesn't make it go away for her. That would be too easy for those supposedly destined to reach the World of Ashes. There is too much vested interest in her succeeding.

    But the sound of Enark's wretching is a sound she can't block out. Amidst all the screams, the bellowing of the minotaur, the skittering of Finna's paws on the stone floor, the scream of the mysterious child who has appeared (one of the visions the others have reported seeing? Though it seems to be tied to Kushiko's actions) that shrouds her and Enark in an aura that rebuffs the Fear a bit... And Staren's highly relevant suggestions of retreat that Carna wishes she could follow. Priscilla, as well, ordering a retreat at this point, wishing at least for Kushiko to be pulled to safety, only to have to run off after those who went ahead... Retreat seems like the most sensible course of action. A decision of sense made while assailed by unreasoning fear, however, is suspect.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Carna trusts no one, even those she awkwardly calls friends, out of a desire that such will become real by her saying. Those she has some unfamiliar feeling of... Importance for, that she does not have a name for the emotion concerning. Is it fondness? The friendship she wishes for? She doesn't know. She sees Enark and Kushiko. They are already two down and they have not even reached their opponent yet.

    "...If we leave now, after coming this close, and convince ourselves that flight was the better option, we may convince ourselves further in the future that coming back here a second time, or ever again, is likewise no in our best interests. This is a challenge. Either to stop us or to test us. That is what we have been told." She hefts Enark up, Kushiko's (she's assuming) void powers helping him to stand and push forward again despite the effects he has suffered. "We must proceed." she says emphatically.

    Then Enark says weakly, "W-wait. I am... Still of use here. I know that I made a promise, but..." He releases his own water shield, creating a puddle of water and blood on the floor, and then places his hand in the mess. Then he sends a grid of power through it, isolating just his own blood, and gathering it together into a crystalline shape. He draws it up like a conductor at an orchestra, encouraging it to form into a replica of a Shrine of Light. But this one gives off no light. It is simply blood and water, turned to solid.

    "I do not know if this will work, but I turned a mimic of a shrine into a functioning one once before. If I turn this into a mimic and then slay it, perhaps I can provide a means of egress." the scholar offers.

    In the absence of their leader, who has run off ahead, Carna looks back at Staren, the other smart one here. It was his idea in the first place. She gives the order. "Do it. Do not wait for us if we do not return, or if Lady Kushiko does not recover."

    Such heroic words might be expected of an Elite. But for someone like Carna, who always prioritizes her own best interests, any form of deviation, let alone one to such a degree, is highly unusual. So is when she too runs off after the others, pushing through the alien presence as best she can, despite the ravages of her body, until she emerges into the room ahead... The space at the end of the corridor that others have no doubt already reached...!

Carna (974) has posed:
    Another unexpected fall. Another disgusting landing. Though this time, there is no meat raft to meet them as they pass out of the darkness and into the blinding light -- blinding only due to its comparison to the darkness they have travelled through so far. The rotten blood and scummy film about the surface is already waist deep for Carna when she lands in it. Less so for the taller among them. Thare insects, flying, crawling, and waterborne, and perhaps worse, in abundance. Things definitely move and brush against her legs below the surface, startled by her sudden arrival.

    The smell of blood here is, if possible, worse than the river they entered upon. The walls are running thick with blood and a congealed, yellowish substance intermixed, as well as many shades of black. It drips from the ceiling in a constant rain, like on that night that they went to the Palace in October, that only Kord saw but all could smell.

    There are a row of paintings upon one wall, salvaged from somewhere. All of them bear scenes of a different world, a different time. A painting depicting a forest within which Gastlys roam, with a silhouette missing in the shape of Kord. One of huge black mechanical spiders with skull-bodies, and a likewise missing silhouette of a boy with cat ears fleeing among humans and non-humans of various descriptions. What is distinctly the Wyld, colors and shapes blending together through some optical illusion so that even in stillness, it seems to be in motion. A fox is gone from her perch upon a boulder within. A scene of a girl seated amidst wires and screens, as absent as in the other paintings. A painting of a library of immense scope, and a single man's missing silhouette upon a recliner that, they have seen, was a Mimic by the time they first met it.

    The only painting not there is one of Lordran. But they already saw where that one ended up.

    Someone has a collection in this den of horror and death and rot.

    Who? The Crimson King?

    He was said to have been killed... To have endured a second death, like that he had tried to inflict upon so many.

    For those who do not know that story, for those too consumed by the monster within them that makes them ever bit a terror as the other things they have witnessed here so far, maybe none of that matters. Maybe it is simply beyond them to care or to analyze.

    But the thing that sits upon a toppled throne, half-sunk into the blood pool, at the far end of this hall... The thing made of blood, without even a semblance of a unique person to it, beyond the vaguest outline of a humanoid frame... The thing with a stained golden crown shining with a cruel beauty in the single shaft of light that comes down through a hole in the ceiling above...

Carna (974) has posed:
    ...Is definitely not the Crimson King.

    For a moment, the Fear aura lapses. The shock of no longer being on the edge of one's nerves is like being splashed in the face with ice water. But then the passive aura that has been roiling outwards from the creature, ceased in a moment of surprise at the new arrivals, returns re-doubled as it rises from its seat, curtains of blood running from its arms like sleeves, and the faint hint of brows, of sockets, stand out in fury through its mask of red.

    A mask exactly like Kord's.
            MARBLE GUARDIAN

            SHADOW OF THE SECOND VAMPIRE KING