Scene #7626: Temple of Three Winds: The Vision

Owner	Pose
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	GREATER TIR COUNTY The second of Rubi-ka's two suns, a burning blue orb, is finally sinking below the horizon. The Clan city of Tir is three days south of you. Tir County is a dry sahara, with vegetation suited to arid climes like wiry bunchgrasses and squat, slim-trunked, wide-boughed trees. You sit, huddled around what will soon be a fire pit. Phreak has just sent over files containing a description of Gerard's grandson, plus a few outdated photos. His name is Barry, and the most recent photo is from a little over a year ago. Tomorrow, you will storm the Temple in search of him--but tonight, you must be inoculated against its insidious mental influence. Some of you--those without the means to drive such things out--may have already had the dreams. Flux, a 'Meta-Physicist,' is here with you, and is working on the vaccine for this place as the blue sun goes down. Otherwise, the edge of this patch of trees is as far as one can safely go, according to the absent Stitches. His dreads are bound in a ponytail, and his attire might be described as the intersection of 'miner roughneck' and 'the Fifth Element,' complete with a keyhole tank-top. He's in a state of deep concentration, arms wide, one hand holding a marbled blue-and-black staff with a crook at the upper end. It seems to radiate a passive sense of calm. No... that's not quite it. It -is- calm, as if 'calm' were something a thing could be made of. Before him, fragments of some crystalline material are gradually sticking to one another, hovering in the air. The furrows of his brow seem to direct and shape it. When it forms a perfect, seamless cube, he extends his hand and it falls into his waiting palm. He kneels. Click, click, click. "My lighter's dead--you mind, Berc?" His nanite cloud constructs a teapot from its internal memory, and he slips the crystal into a wire mesh steeper. Bercilak starts a fire through use of patient hand-drilling, after hewing a fireboard for himself with his axe. The fire is up, the tea is on. You have a little while to prepare yourself for the vision it will induce. According to Flux, it will 'knock your asses out.' "You got shit on your mind, now's the time."
Karlan Nobles	SilverAsh: "Do you expect this to work?" Pramanix: "Why wouldn't it? It's their world. They know far more about it than we would." SilverAsh: "I would hope so. Otherwise, we may have a long battle in front of us." The siblings from the snowy mountain whisper to each other as they watch Flux at work, Pramanix straightening out her usual blue and black dress coat out while observing him intently as SilverAsh just keeps looking on skeptically while removing his hat and setting it aside. "I think... Has anyone ever met those this Temple is dedicated to? Have any of them ever survived?" Pramanix asks Bercilak, eventually assisting with the tea prep if nobody objects to her doing so. "To be frank, I'm kind of curious what the Temple's deity is like." "Of course you would be, si- Pramanix. On that same note, however, how dangerous do you believe this Temple's followers to be on their own?" SilverAsh asks next, pressing his hand against his head for a moment. "A god is another matter entirely, of course, but knowing what kinds of common opposition we run into may help us prepare better."
Hibiki Tachibana	LAST TIME: Progress towards finding Gerard was made, in a very unexpected way. That being a match in the Tir Arena, where one thing led to another, and after a fight with Flux and Stitches, they learned the location of the temple they were searching for. Now the only thing left to do is go there and prepare for what lies ahead. THIS TIME: How strange can the place really be? Really, really strange, evidently. Hibiki is currently working off of slightly less sleep than she otherwise would have liked on the last leg of their trip here, after receiving one of those dreams. As used to strange dreams as she is, she couldn't make much real sense of it, but it was more than enough to tell--protecting themselves against that is no joke. She wasn't terribly comfortable just sitting around so close to the edge of the influence doing nothing, so helping Bercilak with setting up the fire pit however necessary is how she passed the time while Flux got everything is set, followed by going over Phreak's sent-over information. But when things are prepped and the tea is set, she shakes her head. Any questions she had about that dream, she's sure will be answered in very short order. Rather, "I'm ready. Although...why /does/ the temple have this kind of influence? Is that normal for them here on Rubi-ka, or...?"
Rita Ma	Rita the perfectly ordinary girl has been taking the journey through the desert fairly well. Her rustic cooking skills, even working with whatever rations they've packed or been able to scrounge up, are the envy of accomplished chefs- but she never partakes herself. And even though her clothes look like they ought to be too hot, she never sweats or complains. During the days, she chugs water like someone twice her size (fortunately, she brought extra canteens of her own). In the dead of night, she leaves the camp in a half-sleepwalking state with eyes of pure white, prowling the desert for whatever raw meat she can catch before returning to slumber. She's closest with Hibiki; their chatter could fill a whole day if the magical girl lets it. She greets Silverash and Pramanix with a warm and familiar smile too, although she doesn't gravitate towards talking to them quite as much. Bercilak is the recipient of her polite and enthusiastic curiosity throughout the trip. Rita has two simple questions before accepting the tea: "Why would Gerard go in there?" "Who is Khalum?"
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	oHas anyone ever met those this Temple is dedicated to? Have any of them ever survived? [Vicinity] Bercilak: Stitches--al be that 'twas Hibiki and DIOMEDES which encontred her, and not thee. 'Tis gramercy her that we art toknoue wher-awei the Temple loten. oHow dangerous do you believe this Temple's followers to be on their own? [Vicinity] Flux: Well, it's both the 'martial arts' kind and the 'fucked up cult' kind, so I wouldn't say any of 'em were chumps. Stitches said to keep an eye out for the clergy, and expect 'em to get more fucked up the higher up the ladder you go. oAlthough...why /does/ the temple have this kind of influence? That question draws a blink from Flux. He seems to realize something after a moment. "Sorry--forgot you wasn't from around here, for a second. Every metabreed of humanity, and a lotta the genegineered shit, and especially shit from the Shadowlands--the ghost of what this planet was--has at least a little psionic potential. You can do a lot of shit with it, for better or worse." There is a gurgling sound. Floating from behind one of the trees is a hovering ball of scabrous flesh, with a cavity at its front and needle-tipped tendrils hanging from its sides like whiskers. "You can even make thoughts real, like my meatball over there." The 'meatball' radiates a low, simmering kind of agression, like a guard animal waiting to be unchained. "If I had to guess... I think there's probably a psionic network there, slaved to one really powerful presence that uses the other minds to extend its influence. Maybe that's your Khalum," he admits to Rita with a shrug. "Maybe it's someone else. The temple's been around for a few centuries, but the disappearances are pretty recent. Either it's a change in management, or whoever's running the place is really, really fucking patient." He seems to hope it's the former, rather than the latter. oWhy would Gerard go in there? [Vicinity] Bercilak: Not he, but his grandeson. Connor, he is cleped. [Vicinity] Flux: Rubi-ka's got a long tradition of martial arts. The kid's got game, if you believe the old man--so I bet he got noticed and snatched.
Karlan Nobles	Rita gets a friendly smile from Pramanix and a more polite one from SilverAsh. Although they don't beeline for her or Hibiki, they do look a little more relieved merely by their presence in addition to the natives from this world. Pramanix: "So we'll likely encounter some stiff resistance, then. That could be tricky, but it could be a good opportunity to make a bigger mark." SilverAsh: "You're not implying what I think you are, are you?" Pramanix: "What? Flux said it was a... Troublesome cult. Giving this Khalum a black eye or destroying it to free these people should be helpful in the long run. Fun, too." Sighing lightly at Pramanix's apparent growing taste for violence, SilverAsh eventually settles down first while Pramanix keeps poking around. She's definitely more excited-looking about this than he is, and she even takes a moment to check her bag. Anyone looking closely or at the right time will notice she's got a more desert-appropriate cloak in there along with some kind of pipe.
Hibiki Tachibana	Rita is more than a welcome chatterbox to travel with, and Hibiki has spent plenty of time going over everything with her friend from the ordinary to compliments on her cooking to '/how/ many canteens did you bring'. Someone her age (nevermind the fact Hibiki is like four years younger) makes the trip go by a lot faster. The Karlan siblings are always a welcome sight, too, especially after their help from before. Really, it's hard to not feel confident in things when SilverAsh is around. "Psionic..." Hibiki murmurs, slowly looking off towards Flux's floating ball of meat. That is not the kind of thought she'd give form, personally, but Rubi-ka is a place that's still going to take a long time for her to wrap her head around. "Whatever that 'really powerful presence' is, Khalum or anything else, it's definitely not anything good. I hope Connor is still alright...but if it's using people to extend its influence, then..." Even if it's been a whole year, there's still a good chance he's fine. They'll just need to rescue him. Her fist lightly meets her palm, and she gives a nod. "It'll take more than anything in that temple to stop us from getting him back." Definitely sounding geared up herself, Hibiki only pauses to raise an eyebrow in Pramanix's direction when she catches sight of something. A pipe...? Huh.
Rita Ma	Rita's pupils constrict to pinpricks as she regards the floating ball of meat. Her hands flex in her lap, fingers curling and then straightening out again. It's a weirdly vacuous expression. She remembers her smile, and her eyes dilate again, as soon as she looks away. "Psionics... I don't know how to deal with those at all," she admits. "Martial artists, maybe some idea, but not a lot of experience." I always looked up to the Harpoonists back home. When I lost control of myself, some of them tried to put me down. I don't remember much because my body was in control, but... the fact that I'm still here means good things, right? So I bet I can handle this, too. "It seems like a weird combination, though, doesn't it? If they took Connor because he was a good fighter... what does that have to do with a psionic 'network'?"
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	THE CAMP "Hey, Pramanix, can I get a hit off that when you're back?" "Lik-wis." Rita's question gives Flux pause. The tea is almost ready, the last embers of light from the blue sun slowly fading. "Kinda does," he says. "But it also kinda makes sense. Martial artists don't just train their bodies. Not the best ones. I got a few hunches, but it's all conjecture until you hit that place. Tea's ready..." THE VISION In order to face the Temple, you must first see it for what it is. The tea, as promised, knocks your ass out--when the last drop is gone from your cups, the world retreats as if all of waking reality were a tarp, now yanked away by some unseen hand to reveal a great field of blackness. Distinct colors begin to bleed into the dark, giving substance to nothingness as your mind gradually rediscovers sensations like 'down' and 'breathing,' fashioning from your memories a dreamlike facsimile of both. As colors form shapes and paint the scene, the first thing you will notice is each other. Your appearance in this vision is informed by self-image. For instance, Bercilak appears in a far less advanced suit of armor, his massive axe equally low-tech but no less sharp. Flux is absent, apparently taking up the task of guarding everyone while you dream. If you've had the dream, then you recognize this place. A lovely little village, stone huts not quite of human make dotting a gently rolling expanse of green along the banks of a river. You can feel the thrum of something ancient beneath your feet, a palpable energy that makes hairs stand on the back of one's neck. Following the bend of the river, one can see that it empties out into a sparkling, beautiful ocean. Islands within this ocean bear cities with ivory spires and sapphire trim. Great, towering pylons rise at regular intervals from the water. "Holy shit," says Bercilak, apparently free of whatever geas binds him in the waking world. "Dude, this is Adonis! I live, like... five miles from here. We're in the Shadowlands before they were the Shadowlands. This is that OG RK." If you pause, and feel the flow of that ancient power, it appears to run from one of those pylons in the sea, to what appears to be the walled estate of this village's... mayor? Lord? It is built of a smooth, white plaster-like substance, and its style favors rounded edges and organic curves. The beings here are not human, but perhaps they might be distant, distant ancestors. Five fingers, but their stature is too tall, too svelte, their necks too long and their faces hidden behind ivory masks. They have an otherworldly grace, even when they are tending to chores for the day. That power... it feels, vaguely, as if it shouldn't be that palpable. As if the air around you, the water, the grass beneath you, the stones in the quaint little huts--all of them are beginning to strain subtly from the sheer volume of Something that's being drawn and distributed through those pylons. There's a tension in the air. The purpose of a vision is to See. Where will you go?
Rita Ma	Rita's self-image is "the girl she used to be". Her clothes are coarser, more drab, slightly stiff with salt-spray and lovingly worn. Her hair is tied back with a thin red ribbon, the only spot of color in her outfit. She catches sight of herself in the river and seems briefly mesmerized. Is it really okay to claim this? Is it really okay to be this way? I disguise myself in the real world too, but for this to still be 'the appearance of my heart'... I don't feel worthy of it. I know I don't deserve to be that girl anymore, even if I pretend. Over the course of a few seconds, the transformations of the last year re-enact themselves on her body as she watches. Her right eye turns a cold azure and its pupil distorts as blue veins erupt around it. Frilly fins and lappets erupt from her body in the vague shape of a dress, taking the place of clothes. Tentacles erupt from her upper back, curving around her protectively, trailing behind her as she moves, or rearing as if to strike. As she stares at her new reflection, her expression falls and yet becomes less conflicted. Worse, but better. I can accept that my heart looks like this. It hurts, but I don't feel ashamed. The Green Knight's voice distracts her from her musing. "Is... is that still you, Mr. Bercilak? What happened to you?" Only after a moment does she think to ask: "What happened to make this place 'the Shadowlands'? That sounds awful." After giving a brief, uneasy nod to the villagers, she heads towards the sea. Others can investigate the manor, but Rita slices through the water with preternatural grace and incredible speed to reach those pylons in the distance. From up close, what can they tell her?
Karlan Nobles	SilverAsh: "That's the right attitude, Miss Tachibana. It is far easier to carve through a tree in a single blow if you believe in your sword and your strike." Pramanix: "Close enough! And if nothing else, Rita? Even a martial artist gets hurt if you hit them hard en... A hit off what? Sadly, Pramanix's pipe is not that kind of pipe. It's the lead plumbing/bashing type. Hibiki might actually recognize it. And then it's time for tea! Pramanix is quick to savor it, but she's also the first to zonk out of the two siblings. SilverAsh, being something of a responsible brother, waits to move Pramanix's head so she doesn't wake up with a sore neck before partaking of his own tea. The way he goes down, he will probably wake up with a sore neck later. THE VISION Pramanix's self-image is pretty much herself, but a little bit taller and with a far more elegant demeanor. Her clothes are the same, but she moves with more grace than she usually does, even being able move about while looking like she's gliding. "Adonis? Ah, have you been here before, Sir Bercilak? This is quite the scenic place you've shown us... And we're meant to see what the Temple truly is beyond the facades through this?" "That seems to be the case, sister." SilverAsh's self-image, meanwhile, is... Actually almost unchanged, although his clothing is a a little flashier in its coloration, a little more stylized in its lining, and it might even look like there's a constant wind blowing past him with the way his hair keeps moving when he's not doing anything. "So if this Temple was built in the Shadowlands, does that mean it's taken on the lingering properties of such lands from being there for so long? No wonder we need to see this..." SilverAsh, having seen the dream, steps carefully while keeping his eyes peeled for anything and everything he recognizes in the dream. He looks for the glowing sun, he smells for the burning flesh, and he listens for the screams. One of those should guide him towards something. He's not sure what that something is.
Hibiki Tachibana	Oh. That sure is a lead pipe. She thinks she actually might. "Yeah, they don't," Hibiki agrees with Flux, right before they all take the plunge. Or more specifically, the drink. "But whatever the case, nothing for it but to find out. In your sword and strike...anyway, here goes nothing." Down the hatch. Reality fades out, and blackness is filled back in. It's so very distinctly weird, so much moreso than when she took a trip into the Grid. It takes her some time to adjust, and take in the ethereal dreamscape for what it is. In here, she looks just a little more disheveled than normal, with noticeably messier hair that's only kept vaguely under control by her heart-shaped hairclips. Oddly, her Symphogear's prominent scarf and pair of gauntlets are both there, too. With some muted surprise, Hibiki holds up one hand to examine it - but after mulling it over for a moment, she understands. It makes sense the thing she believes lets her express her heart would show up here, huh? Bercilak's voice in a form she /never/ would have expected is plenty enough to snap her out of her musings, and the girl turns and gives him a few silently confused blinks, looking like she might do a double-take at any moment. "The...OG RK...?" She repeats, not because she doesn't get the implication, she just had to be sure she heard that properly. The hum of power beneath her feet snaps her back to what they're here for before long though, and Hibiki turns to first look off towards the shining sea, and then the not-quite-human residents of the village. "...Could the source of whatever's behind everything in the Temple have came from here? This far back in history? This feeling...under my feet..." She looks to the sun overhead, comparing it to the one from the dream. To the pylons, out on the water. But more than anything else, she finds herself stepping slowly off towards the village. Following the same dirt path, wondering--what will she see in those stone huts? The screams she had heard...
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	oWhat happened to you? "Huh?" There's a pause, and the Green Knight takes a moment to look at his gauntlet. He seems to think she meant 'why do you look like that,' not-- "Oh! Morgana," he says, as if that explains everything. Rather, as if 'Morgana did it' was frequently an explanation. "Galahad's fucked in the head, but so is she, and she's always trying these schemes and shit to kill him and the homies, you feel me?" He waves a large gauntleted hand dismissively. "It's a whole thing, fam." How does that explain why he talks like that? It doesn't--hence 'it's a whole thing.' oWhat happened to make this place 'the Shadowlands'? That sounds awful. "Back on Saint Patty's, I had a cookout, 'cause I'm all about burning it down. Flux was there, 'cause he's, like, God tier grillman. He told that Mack dude it had to do with notum. That's the shit that makes nanites work," he says, tracing the edge of his medieval axe. "Some people say it's also... more than that. You feel that shit? Buzzing in your teeth? Hair standing on end?" Bercilak taps his bucket helm thoughtfully. "He said it was the juice for creative thought. Said, uh... they might have tried to create something that ended up destroying them, and some kinda paradox bullshit too. I wasn't listening all the way, 'cause it was Saint Patty's and I was busy knocking back cold ones." Rita: Swim Rita has the chance to experience something that no colonist on Rubi-ka ever will. That no spectre or shade who wanders the shattered corpus of its spirit has known in tens of thousands of years. She gets to feel the embrace of an alien sea, to swim amongst visions of forgotten beasts existing in the waking world only as memories, often distortions, of their living selves. Up close to one of those pylons, the sensation is dizzying. Her head swims, and the light is so bright that long shadows are cast from even the smallest stones. The fish, crustaceans, undersea mammals and all steer clear not of Rita, but of this device which appears to be drawing the glowing blood of the planet from a fissure drilled into the sea floor.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Hibiki and the Nobles: See oHave you been here before, Sir Bercilak? "Oh, yeah. Did you get taller? Nice." He points, across the river, to a copse of trees surrounding a distant ivory building. Its spire seems more built for observation, tipped with a glass dome. "That's the Green Chapel! It's not green yet, but give it an apocalypse and a couple... tens of... thousands of years. Yeah." He shifts the axe, taking a look around. "Adonis was, like, the capital of their whole shit," he says, jerking a thumb to one of the alien villagers. oSo if this Temple was built in the Shadowlands, does that mean it's taken on the lingering properties of such lands from being there for so long? Perhaps it does. Or perhaps... oCould the source of whatever's behind everything in the Temple have came from here? This far back in history? "Please, you must reconsider!" The lord of this place--it must be, for the way they carry themselves. For the way a retinue of... well, the armor, the greatswords, the bows, otherworldly yet undeniably familiar helmets. They're knights, escorting their lord, who is chasing after some sort of functionary or official, given by the insignias on their own flowing robes. "To cut my station off from the Source so prematurely would set my creation back decades!" "My lord Or-Jerad," says the functionary, "Myrddin's mission requires no small supply itself. Until victory is ours and the Source is secured, sacrifices must be made. You are hardly the only one making such a sacrifice." Their voices, their language--it's like the wind, blowing through trees, with aftertones of chimes. "We have considered your project's applications--" "Reconsider it! Imagine a general to lead our forces into battle who never tires, whose very presents sets the minds about him to one singular purpose." There is an uneasy pause. "My lord, respectfully... I doubt whether our armies would trust such a general, when Arthur has won their hearts so soundly."
Rita Ma	As much as she hates this body, Rita can't bring herself to feel bad about how right being in the ocean feels. She twists, corkscrewing through the water in a swift tentacle-aided dive, then unfurls herself to brake next to one of the foreign oceanic beasts, running a hand over its body and marveling. The pylon drawing glowing energy from a wound in the planet does dampen the mood a little. Rita grimaces as she approaches; what was once a subtle feeling has now become nearly overwhelming. This is "notum", isn't it? But it feels like... an overdrawn bank account. Something strained to breaking. It's coming from the ground, and things that come out of the ground are finite, aren't they? <Tac-Watch> [3] Bercilak says, "I know this is a vision and all, but you might not wanna be in the water, fam. If this is when I think it is." <Tac-Watch> [4] Rita Ma says, "... Oh. Is this right before the bad things happen?" <Tac-Watch> [3] Bercilak says, "Yeah, I think. I've been in notum fields before but this shit has my teeth buzzing, dude. Normally I'd think that's pretty sick, but metawater's, like... You don't wanna fuck with that." There's a splash of water, a spray of bubbles, and Rita's wading back onto shore already. She gathers her sopping hair in both hands and wrings it out like a towel, grimacing slightly. It's in that state that she tries to rejoin the party, still leaving behind damp footprints and dribbling slightly. "They're milking this place for 'notum' really, really hard. It's drawn out of the planet. I think that might be what caused... the bad thing that's about to happen. A lot of that energy is getting funneled to this guy's manor, isn't it?"
Hibiki Tachibana	"It was the capital...? Huh..." Hibiki follows Bercilak's gesture off towards the Chapel, taking in that bit of information. It really is strange that a vision is almost like going back in time, but given the nature of Rubi-ka, maybe she shouldn't be surprised at all. Then, voices. Her attention falls onto the retinue, and she slows down briefly to listen, only to move to keep up as the apparent lord of the place - Or-Jerad - hurries to keep up with his robed contemporary. What are they...? The news from Rita's end of things echoes in her mind as she listens. The Source? A project? Is the Source the notum that they're pulling free from the earth? Then does that mean... It's what comes after that gets her to actually come to a stop. The way Or-Jerad says that doesn't sit right with her. Not at all. A general? Whose presence sets the minds about him... "There's no way there's not a connection there--right? Something like that..." She trails off, murmuring to herself, swallowing quietly as she listens in for anything else in their exchange. When Rita rejoins them, Hibiki glances back to her briefly, then settles back forward with a furrowed brow. "This...project that he's talking about...I dunno about the first thing about 'psionic networks', but that sounds like something that would make one if that's how it works. Setting minds to one singular purpose...but it sounds like he's not ever going to get the chance to finish it. Especially if soon there's going to be..." Right before the bad things happen.
Karlan Nobles	"Did I? Oh, I didn't quite notice." Pramanix chuckles softly at Bercilak's observation, clearly reveling in actually being taller than SilverAsh's image of himself (even if it's only by mere fractions of an inch). Looking towards the distant building, she squints, then gasps at the revelation. "Ten thous...? So this really is before everything changed. And so much, even." Turning to the lord as they arrive, the siblings listen intently to both the objection and the rationalization of that same plan from the functionary. "A single glorious leader, while effective, is a double-edged sword. Trust issues notwithstanding..." SilverAsh brushes his hair back, somehow managing to look even more handsome than before. "Do you have any kind of backup plans should this general fail anyway? Or has your confidence in this creation blinded you to the possibility of failure?" "Also, who is this Arthur fellow?" Pramanix chimes in after that, still trying to lighten the mood a little bit after SilverAsh risks screwing that up by crapping all over the lord's plan.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Everyone: See Things start to make sense, on the shore. In the middle of that sea is a gleaming metropolis. Faint shapes can be seen flying at various speeds around it. As Rita wrings her hair, she can spot numerous other pylons, some merely specs on the horizon for how far these beings have spread their grasp. oThey're milking this place for 'notum' really, really hard. It's drawn out of the planet. I think that might be what caused... the bad thing that's about to happen. They are. It is. And it is. oA lot of that energy is getting funneled to this guy's manor, isn't it? oDo you have any kind of backup plans should this general fail anyway? Or has your confidence in this creation blinded you to the possibility of failure? "I see what this is. You're all jealous. King Arthur is jealous." Apparently, SilverAsh, 'this Arthur fellow' is /that/ Arthur fellow. There is a quiet pop, in the distance, that causes the stomach to drop. "My creation will outlive all of you if I must host it myself." "My lord?" There is a concerned glance between Or-Jeran's knights, and the functionary takes a step backwards. Or-Jeran whirls around and skulks into the manor. oIt sounds like he's not ever going to get the chance to finish it. Especially if soon there's going to be... Everyone: See. The planet is a snowglobe, cracked apart as if by the fist of an angry god. In an instant the stone huts collapse. The manor's roof caves in just in time for everyone to see the red-orange lights that gleam from within. In an instant, children age to decrepit elders. The motion of the river halts, where it doesn't slip through the broken earth. Souls are ripped from bodies, shades screaming in agony as birds of paradise drop dead or are frozen in time mid-flight. The great gleaming city in the ocean is ablaze, falling in pieces against itself and into the deep. You, and Or-Jeran, are swallowed by the earth. But there is nothing to catch the earth--nothing to make a burial of your fall. Everyone: SEE There is only a terrifying, sheer fall into a great, nebulous expanse of shifting colors buried in ever-churning mist. As you look up into the sky, you find that it, and the two suns, are gone. In their place is that smothering, ever-present miasma, and the impression of some strange and alien ur-sun, as the world falls in pieces all around you. Adonis, the gleaming nerve center of a civilization, hangs suspended in this miasma, growing smaller, and smaller, as you fall further and further. You pass through the mist, and... the sky. It's back. But you're still falling. And though your lungs draw breath, you cannot breathe. You can barely croak. You recognize the two suns, but their warmth boils over into something like reproach. Or-Jeran's eyes and veins burn orange, as he plummets. You hit the ground with nothing. No impact. No pain. You are here to See, after all. And what you see is the Immortal One, choking and crawling on his hands and knees. For days. Weeks. Months. Years. From crawling, to stumbling. From stumbling, to walking. He is utterly alone with his thoughts, for centuries, millennia. Until, one day, two ships arrive, bearing colonists and Omni-Tek branding... The vision ends.
Karlan Nobles	The city crumbles. People are turned to husks. What was a beautiful landscape becomes holes at best, hell at worst. That familiar, yet unpleasant haze returns, and SilverAsh realizes what he had seen in his dream. Pramanix sees it for the first time. They see what happened to Or-Jeran. It takes a while for everything to happen, but they see it all, however long it takes. They see the Omni-Tek ships arriving, and they start to understnad where things finally fall into place with this world's state. They stay quiet for a while after the vision ends. They're going to need some time to process it all, and they look rather out of it just from that last part alone.
Rita Ma	Rita's tentacles desperately stab out as she falls, gouging into whatever 'solid' terrain they can find and rappelling her towards them to ensure she can plant her feet on something approximating ground. But the ground is breaking apart, and everything is falling so that feeling of vertigo won't go away, and her tentacles can't reach up far enough to grasp Adonis- No, this is still a vision. There's no point in screaming. The notum pylon didn't hurt me, so this won't hurt me either. She lands in a three-point stance and bounces up, hitting softer than she thought she would. Only when she straightens up does she take notice of the Immortal One, his veins and eyes afire, crawling along the ground. Rita walks over and reaches out to touch him, but pulls herself short. Her fingers only grasp the air. And the vision ends, and she's left staring down at the ground with her hands balled tightly in her lap. "Never resting," she echoes to nobody in particular. "I'd say it must be lonely, but... I'm not sure he can feel lonely anymore."
Hibiki Tachibana	The weight of things begins to settle in, little by little. The scope of things, out on the sea. King Arthur? She only just begins to process that when Or-Jeran's words strike. 'My creation will outlive all of you, if I must host it myself'. What did he even mean by that? ...Wait. This is the moment before disaster. That can't mean... Earth cracks. Stone huts fall. The people around them--it's awful. Like the laws of nature themselves are being upset. It's chaos. Even worse than the dream. Much worse. She couldn't have imagined anything like this happening. The planet splits open, and everything falls. She screams on the way down, instinctively, until the alien sight comes into full view. This is a sight she remembers, from before. The ur-sun, and the miasma that Bercilak mentioned. Adonis, at the center...only for it to fall out of view as they continue going. She briefly catches sight of Or-Jeran before finally, there's surface again. Hibiki gets back to her feet. She watches...but this watching, in the vision, is nothing compared to what the man himself, if he could still be entirely called that after what had happened, must have experienced. She comes out of the vision with wide eyes, and a slight cold sweat. She ended with her back on the ground, and she doesn't get up right away. "...I wonder if he thinks it was worth it...or if he stopped thinking about things like that a long time ago..."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Felt like a falling dream," says Flux curiously, eating a bulbous, brightly colored fruit. "Was it?" "Sib, thou knoue not the half of hit." That draws a concerned 'hm' from Flux, who glances around the embers of the fire. "'Worth it?' 'Never resting?' Shit, what'd you guys see?" "The Shadowlands," answers Bercilak solemnly. "Thire biginning. So als, that of the Immortal One. 'Tis one strengthi psychic, afte al." The first landing of the colonists on this planet was centuries ago--meaning that this psychic has had a lot of time to build up the ranks of his faithful. Perhaps the disappearances aren't new. Perhaps they're simply more brazen. The Temple of Three Winds awaits.