Scene #5690: Then The Morning Comes (2)

Owner	Pose
Ice King	Ten Elites confirmed missing. Possibly as many as twelve, if one counts two natives of Lumiere, Enark and Crow. It has been established at this point that finding an item of personal value to the missing is necessary to help bring them back. Something that can act as an anchor for those trying to rescue them when they delve into the prison. As well, they must entrust something of value to themselves with someone on the outside, watching over the door. That way, they can find their way back. Since it was recommended by Peacemaker Longita, a priestess at the Church of Bleak Mercy, in Lumiere, that people investigate Escher and research the prison and how to rescue the Elites in the Library Of Murdered Knowledge (even if she herself didn't know that Elites had already been there until they told her, apparently), it could still be a valuable source of information. Particularly in tracking down the prison itself. Further, if Enark is indeed one of the missing, then visiting his study to find an item of personal value seems like it might be a good idea. The journey is as always, though lately it seems that, with changes wrought upon Lumiere last year, the Grim Bone Gate that serves as the main entrance into Lumiere has become linked to the Multiverse's larger Warp Gate system, making it no longer necessary to trek through the Cavern of Death and fight through/avoid local undead just to jump into a bone-lined pit and fall downwards for an interminable amount of time before reaching a vast black marble plane with a pair of creepy stone gates standing in them, no apparent destination unless one opens them and wills to go to one of the locations that floats into mind like snap shots from a series of dream-filtered security cameras. No, now people can avoid all of that and simply go to one of the previously activated Shrines, acting as relay points for the Warp Gates, using the Grim Bone Gate as the vector. And so arriving in the Library of Murdered Knowledge, and specifically the study where a certain dead scholar has been dwelling for a very, very long time, should be a task of trivial significance. There are, of course, many books on the wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, many more piled neatly on every available surface, though there are many furniture pieces left available for visitors of a wide variety of shapes and sizes. There is also what appears to be a completed or nearly-completed robotic fascimile of a person laid out on a long table, metal woven together so organically that finding where it all connects, where the seams are, how it was constructed, is nearly impossible. The room is also very dark, unlike normal. A black fog of some kind chokes the air with Corruption, infecting everything with a taint that twists it all into something else. Its center seems to be at the far side of the study, where someone or something is making awful gurgling noises while something semi-fluid squelches about.
Staren	And so Staren returns once again to the Library of Murdered Knowledge. He steps out of the shrine to approach Enark's study... but it's covered in dark fog? And something is moving. Did the mimic break free? Did a fishman or other monster of the deep come up here? Staren takes aim and shines a flashlight built into his armor -- first at the mimic's usual position to check if it's still there, then at the gurgling.
Rebecca Chambers	One missing Elite is bad enough, but ten of them missing? That's a real major situation right there. Of course it could technically be twelve given the circumstances at hand here. In most search and rescue missions, one has to attempt to locate clues to their whereabouts in order to figure out what happened and how to rescue them. But in a case like this, having to find something of personal value makes things more unique... and rather interesting. At least in the eyes of Rebecca Chambers. Regardless, whether it's a standard operation or something deeper, the R in S.T.A.R.S. stands for 'Rescue' and Rebecca intends to fulfill that role fully! The first bit of advice that was given was that they investigate Escher and gain information about the prison, as well as how to rescue the Elites. In spite of the spooky location and atmosphere, Rebecca's not afraid in the least bit. She's as determined as ever to get in there and find out whatever she and the others can in hopes of rescuing the Elites. No matter what gets in her way or what she might encounter, Rebecca's going in! The fact that Rebecca can avoid battling hordes of undead is a big relief to her since she can conserve ammunition as well as first-aid supplies in case things get nasty. Hopefully, though, that won't be the case, as Rebecca's expecting this just to be a case of searching for intel. But in a place like this, what's to say there isn't something nasty waiting to get them? Once Rebecca arrives at the libary with the others, she immediately turns on the flashlight attached to her Beretta to try to illuminate everything a little bit. The first thing she notices is the strange squelching sound, which causes the medic to turn her aim in the general direction of. She pauses for a moment, then she sees the strange robotic person and she raises an eyebrow to it. Changing her focus, Rebecca approaches slowly, her hand gun trained on it just in case there might be something or someone waiting to get her. There's something about this that seems very off, not that the rest of the place is pretty off as is, and Rebecca's interested in checking it out in hopes she can find some clues with it.
Eithne Sullivan	When asked to leave something of value behind, Eithne wasn't terribly sure what to give. In the end, she'd brought a thin book bound in faded library binding. It looked like a children's book. Stepping out of the Warp Gate with the others, she has her modified greatsword out and ready within seconds of seeing the miasma. "The hell's this?" she wonders out loud, squinting into the darkness. From the way the others react, she doesn't think that wet, squelching noise belongs here. Everything feels like death here, perhaps even moreso than her mother's hawthorn throne room in Tir na Marbh. "I can't tell up from down," Eithne frowns, and tugs a tangle of inky black hair out of her eyes with the hand not holding her weapon. At least she's dressed for battle if it comes to that, wearing her armored leather jacket over a skull t-shirt and red skirt. Yeah, it's the underworld here, right? She ought to be in her element! The thought is immediately cheering.
Priscilla	Dispatching with the constant rigamarole of traversing the Cavern of Death over and over (previously the entire elemental caverns system) is a welcome relief to Priscilla, in terms of being one of those small indicators of having finally made any progress at all after all this time. She had never particularly liked the Grim Bone Gate anyways. Too many horrid things lie beyond giant double doors that open slowly and dramatically to permit entry into a bounded area. Apparently that goes for the doors to Enark's study, too, far less dramatic that they be (if far weirder). Having no idea what kind of ill-advised experiments the Blue Scholar had been up to here (is that a person on the table?), Priscilla holds her breath the moment upon entering, though that doesn't stop her from saying a few words. Specifically: "Pray, do not sit upon any of the furniture." she warns, quite unhelpfully. It very much looks like he'd been up to his old bad habits. Having some vague hope in its apparently symbolic mysticism here, Priscilla slips free Moonlight and holds the luminous, pale blue blade aloft as a torch, though far too soft and effervescent to ever be as useful as a flashlight. Even then, just holding it is oddly calming.
Ice King	The light from Moonlight provides some illumination, but it... Distorts a short distance beyond Priscilla. Become something other. It twists and extends little protuberances, tendrils, along the edges. Unwholesome shapes that bend and wave and form into cunning, sharp-toothed mouths that whisper unheard things. Or maybe that's just an illusion from looking too hard at the clashing of this unnatural fog and magic light. The light that Staren shines turns into jagged teeth sawing together the further into the room it goes. Triangles of black bizarrely obstructing the light in a way that indicates physical obstructions in the air even though there does not seem to be anything there. Wilson, the recliner mimic, seems to still be chained in place, though its bolt in the floor looks close to being pulled loose of the sturdy stones from its thrashing. Likewise, there are signs of gouges in its exerior, stuffing mixed with strange metal wires exposed in the 'wounds'. It is snarling and slavering near a bookshelf, as if trying to protect itself by keeping its 'back' to something. The mimic is not the cause of this, it seems. The deeper Rebecca goes as she advances into the study, the weirder reality gets. The figure laid out on the table appears lifeless. A hollow caricature of a person, without motion. Empty sockets, a slit-mouth empty of teeth, fingers without claws... Unlike Wilson over there, if this is meant to be a mimic, or the basis of one, it does not appear to be made for killing. Some of the air the S.T.A.R.S. member breathes in becomes solid half-way down her throat. If she does not work to get it out, to eject it, she may find herself choking suddenly. To those who look in Rebecca's direction, it seems her hair is lifting and raising on its own, wisping in the air, not in a wind, but like invisible hands are teasing and playing with it, and nibbling the tips of the strands off, bit by bit.
Staren	Even LIGHT ITSELF is warped by whatever's going on here. This is ridiculous! At least it doesn't look like they have to kill the mimic chair. Instead, they get to spend a few hours working out HOW TO SHINE A FREAKING LIGHT. If you thought adventurers having work out how to open a door was embarassing, it turns out things can get even more messed-up. As he tries to figure out what he can do for bright lights, though, suddenly Rebecca starts choking. He looks towards her, briefly considering trying some more indirect way to retrieve her, then decides time is of the essence and to just go for it. He dashes over to grab her and pull her back towards the shrine of light.
Rebecca Chambers	Things were pretty weird enough as they were, but the more Rebecca looks over this mysterious figure, the more she becomes puzzled by what she's seeing. It's definitely something that looks like a human but it doesn't seem to be made for any kind of hostility. There's no claws or or sharp teeth or anything that would indicate that it's supposed to be a monster. "I can't say I'm entirely surprised by what I'm seeing here, but something about it doesn't seem right either." Rebecca puts her right index finger to her mouth as she begins to ponder what this is. "Maybe if I get one of the others over here?" She stands up and looks to try to call out to the others-- --Only to find her windpipe is slowly being closed off as her recent breath of air suddenly turns into a solid form almost immediately. She tries to cough a few times in hopes of loosening it, but there's no luck and she begins to feel her airway closing off completely. She can only emit a gagging sound like someone being strangled or something, although somehow she manages to get out a very faint, but hopefully audible, cry of "choking... need help..." She struggles to breathe, but it's becoming harder and harder. The issue of her hair being played with and nibbled off isn't the biggest issue, as she can always style her hair again later, or if worst comes to worst, get hair restoration somewhere (it's the Multiverse, anything is possible!) Then Staren comes for her and she reaches her arms out for him, while she continues to cough once again, hoping to try to get whatever it is out of her throat.
Eithne Sullivan	There's little Eithne can do about a low-light situation besides 'hope she remembered a torch'. She did not. It doesn't seem like one would do her much good at the moment anyway, from the way the edges of flashlight beams and softly-shining auras warp. "The hell's goin' on here?" she repeats, softer this time. Rebecca begins to choke, and Eithne's head turns - but Staren's got her, it seems. Good. "Anybody got a bright light? Like... halogen, or a spell, or somethin'?" And even if the chair's a mimic, she feels bad for it. "C'mon then, it's all right," she tells Winston, lowering her sword to reach out an empty hand. "Poor thing, what's happened here?"
Priscilla	"I warn thee again. Mind the furniture." Priscilla intones, moving past Eithne when she stops to hopefully-not-pet-the-mimic. The crossbreed herself has some interest in Wilson too, however. Specifically, his 'injuries'. The commonality between his wire guts and the thing on the table is strikingly obvious, putting the nature of the latter into sharp relief, but the former has no reason to be damaged. Does the recliner look like it's been attacked? Corroded? Starting to have fallen apart? Rebecca seems to have fallen afoul of one of Lumiere's many hazards of indeterminate nature, but since Priscilla has been intentionally abstaining from inhaling any of that fog, uncanny as its uncomfortable squirming and shifting is, she doesn't think of it as much more than having succumbed to the obvious environmental hazard, and leaves Staren to it, probably expecting him to stuff an oxygen mask on her or something. Instead, her attention is fixed on the squelching sound further back into the room, having to navigate mostly by sound in such foul air that permits her to barely see beyond arm's reach like this.
Ice King	What Rebecca dislodges from her throat after Staren hauls her back towards the gleaming little shrine in the alcove just inside the closed doors to the study is a solid chunk of air. Yes, solid air. Visible due to how it's a distorted ball, twisting and overlapping within itself. it drifts off towards the ceiling somewhere and out of sight in the black fog. This is not at all the normal environment, the homey, welcoming library atmosphere, that previous visitors have come to expect. Hopefully Priscilla's warning does Eithne some good, because the chair lifts its cushion to expose triple rows of sharp, triangle-teeth like a crocodle, surrounding a red throat with a pitch-black gullet, which it attempts to use upon the extended hand at it lunges, swinging along the arc of the furthest its chain will allow it to go, extended by an inch or two by its struggles starting to dislodge the steel spike in the floor. It should still be possible to step back out of range in time if Eithne is quick, but otherwise, someone is going to have to rescue her too. As Priscilla gets closer and closer to the source, space starts to warp, the floor stretching and bending, going concave beneath her, as walls and floor move to meet each other on the ceiling. Dark shapes flicker and snicker in the murk, things made of the fog, of this essence of Corruption itself. But she comes to what she is seeking. Enark, suspended in mid-air, with a river of black that feels innately Wrong flowing into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, coming out of a door attached to nothing, that greatly resembles the ones seen so long ago in that maddening white space in Escher. The same place they first met Enark, as he wandered stairs and doors leading to all manner of places. The gurgling emerges from him as he twitches and spasms helplessly. And there is little reason to doubt that the source of this corruption comes from beyond that door.
Rebecca Chambers	After a few unsuccessful coughs, Rebecca finally dislodges... a chunk of air? Almost immediately, Rebecca has to blink a few times to make sure she's not hallucinating. "What was THAT?" Rebecca asks, trying to look closer at what she just coughed up, but it's gone before she can get another look. When she realizes she can't see it anymore, she breathes deeply a few times, trying to catch her breath. "Breathe deeply, Becky," She says to herself. "Don't hyperventilate yourself." Once she regains normal oxygen levels in her body, Rebecca looks around and almost immediately scowls. "OK, there's definitely something not right here! I say we find what we need and get the hell out of here now!"
Priscilla	The further Priscilla goes, the less and less she like what she's seeing. She rarely ever does in Lumiere, but Enark's study at least is a familiar, and pointedly not all that big of a space, comparatively. There's no good reason for it to be getting dangerous, ominous, and non-euclidian advancing from one end to the other. It's a Cleared Area and it makes her feel uneasy coming back to it like this, even moreso than the flirtatiously evil little noses and tricks of the eye are. When she finally lays eyes on him, she is decisive about it. Without any intent to be wishy-washy and 'heroically cautious', she grabs hold of the Blue Scholar and wrests him away from the door, physically pulling him into the tiny zone of scintillating moonlight around her, and at the very least, firmly and emphatically marching him out of there, dragging him along to the main entryway if at all possible, but leaving him with Staren if not. They had found him used and spent by the forces of corruption once before, and he had bounced back. At the moment, it looks like being anywhere near that door is 'completing the circuit', in the sense of the inescapable, fatal moment when someone grips an electrified wire and can no longer let go.
Staren	The air(?) is messed up. Staren tries to grab it for closer examination, but how do you grab air? Staren doesn't exactly have good bedside manner -- presented with a problem, he solves it by pulling a torc with a small air tank from his bag, and pressing it to her neck with an orange-sized lump of plastic-looking material, which starts growing into a spacesuit as he finally thinks to comment, "This will provide you with your own sealed atmosphere, since apparently the darkness itself is trying to choke you or something ridiculous. It's not normally like this in Enark's study, I swear. I'll be back with a proper light source momentarily." And he turns to walk back to the shrine just as Priscilla announces she's found Enark. "Can you get him out of there?" The suit will stop growing and let Rebecca remove it if she freaks out, since the spot she's in now is maybe safe. As for Enark... if they're able to get him out of there and take him to examine, Staren suggests grabbing his incomplete latest creation as well, since it was being made for a reason and they might need it. If the tendrils of black stay connected, though, Staren starts trying to cut or blast through them with energy weapons.
Eithne Sullivan	Awwww, it's cute! Look at its little teeth! She's never seen a chair with a throat before. It lunges for her hand, which she'd expected - come on, she's not epically intelligent, but she's tried taming several kinds of aggressive creature before. Yanking her hand out of chomping distance, Eithne glances after Priscilla as the unnatural woman strides toward that grotesquely wet noise. "Fffffffffffffine," she agrees, giving poor Winston a little wave as the Scion turns to follow her. She'll pet you yet, chair, just watch. "Feelin' better?" she asks the STARS operative as they pass by, but she's definitely distracted right after by the sight of someone she's never met being Forcibly Invaded by tendrils of Wrongness. That's... not good. Eithne watches to make sure someone's got poor Enark and rushes headlong for the door, stopping at the threshold with her weapon held... strangely, like a rifle, the business end aimed for whatever's beyond and attached to the other end of whatever's doing that to poor Enark. "Knock it off or I'll shoot!"
Ice King	It takes some work to haul Enark away, but the further he gets, the thinner the strands connecting him to the unreality-sludge become, until they drop away wetly, allowing the Blue Scholar to begin the grotesque process of vomiting the embodiment of the concepts of ruin and poison out of every orifice on his head. He appears to be too spent to actually struggle or do much else, and there's no telling what condition is consciousness is in. But as Eithne approaches, the Corruption gunk lifts itself up off the floor, forming itself into an oozing arm, gathering itself, and trying to chase after Priscilla and Enark, unwilling to let the mage go so easily. It seems that making threats isn't the way to stop something without any semblance of a human form beyond the simulation of an appendage. If she or Staren or Rebecca or anyone are going to shoot, they should do it now, or it might claim two victims instead of just one.
Rebecca Chambers	By now, Rebecca's gained her breathing back fully and is eager to get out of there. But then something changes her mind. Namely that gunk turning into an arm or something resembling it. And it definitely does not look like it's there to help them either. The scowl turns into a look of shock on Rebecca's face as she realizes there was definitely something not right here, only it's far worse than she anticipated. "Look out behind you!" Rebecca exclaims towards Priscilla and Enark, reaching for her Beretta once again. "You're not going to take them that easily!" Rebecca yells out as she fires off three rounds at the large arm. She doesn't know if her weapons will have any effect or not, but she's hoping that, at the very least, it will tell whatever that thing is that it's not going to take Priscilla and Enark that easily!
Staren	Well, the good news is it couldn't hold onto Enark. The bad news is, it seems to have reformed and wants to fight. Staren WOULD just plasma missile the place, but... it's a library! He ultimately decides to risk missed direct-fire shots damaging things because what else is he going to do?? He fires his armor's beam cannons at the tentacle, backing away and pulling the laser rifle from his bag to follow up with.
Priscilla	It's a relief in one sense that Enark can be pulled away from the site at all. Too often, thigns like these are solely symbolic, and stubbornly anticipation, nevermind resolution, rooted in common sense or obvious logical deduction. Enark isn't the source of it all. The horrid, foggy blackness doesn't move around with her like carrying the Blue Scholar is akin to carrying a censer. That's a start. She can figure out the rest from there. They all can. Rebecca yelling out loud to warn her is far from the list of things she would have expected, but probably because of that rarity rather than in spite of it, she takes it very seriously, and turns to look just in the nick of time. Sadly, she can't poof away and take Enark with her, but she is still ridiculously fast when given reason to be, and a near-reflexive jump away, almost like a startled cat, is easily enough to carry her to the starting end of the room with the Scholar in tow; importantly, while the arm is getting lit up behind her.
Eithne Sullivan	She wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting to see on the other side of the door, but it wasn't pitch-blackness. (It probably /should/ have been.) Movement behind her has the girl turning on a heel, nearly clipping the doorframe with the blade of the absolutely ridiculously large weapon she's carrying. Why is it always corruption goo? When the Giant Corruption Arm rises from the floor, Eithne doesn't think twice - she just pulls the trigger hidden on the handle of the sword Yang gave her, grunting softly as the kick digs the pommel into the meaty bit below her collarbone. Fire and concussive force explode from the barrels buried in grooves on either side of the blade, and Eithne switches back to a two-handed grip on the handle to slash forcefully at the base of the arm, heedless of the laser beams and normal bullets passing so close to her own form. "Right then, KILL IT!"
Ice King	Bullets sink into the muck, causing it to twitch a bit around the rippling points as splits to flow around its 'wounds'. Beams coil around it, distorting under the influence of corruption, but its very nature working against it as the beams turn into burning ropes that entangle it, restraining it after its failed attempt to seize its two targets. Eithne's shot seems as though it splattered the arm, but the bits and pieces halt in mid-air, still connected to the main mass thinly, and begin to retract into it as the appendage itself blindly gropes about for its prey. When the sword cuts into the appendage however, Eithne may realize she made a terrible mistake. The Corruption flows quickly up the blade, staining it in poison and hate and madness and Wrong, and moving towards her hands. But then that mimic, finding prey within its attack radius lunges forth, chomping down on the Corruption arm, even as that same Corruption consumes it in turn, flowing over it, overflowing its mouth, and its wounds. The mimic, after being denied prey so long, does not care about its own destruction, going into an apoplexy of frenzied eating, until the mimix itself has been dissolved into nothing and absorbed. Buying time to draw the sword free, and for Eithne to escape alongside the others, as they head for their escape route out of here.
Staren	The bizarre reaction with his beam weapons makes Staren stop and stare for a split second. Before he can think of a new plan, though, Wilson sacrifices itself to save them (or at least, aims its general berserkness at their enemies for once.) Staren feels bad about that... Wilson may have been an annoyance to everyone else, but it was Enark's sole companion for untold eons. Well, maybe he can at least save SOMETHING. He rushes over to grab the unfinished man-mimic and then runs for it -- not being particularly careful with the mimic, but hopefully it will at least be of some use to Enark still. "Back to the shrine, take Enark somewhere safe!"
Eithne Sullivan	Something grabs onto her sword, and Eithne pulls back with a yelp of mingled dismay and indignation as it doesn't let go. The... the /thing/, the /stuff/, has her weapon!! And even one she gets it back, there's something... wrong with it. The Scion hefts it up into her arms again, biting her lower lip at the way her brain recoils from holding something so corrupted this close to her chest. "FUCK OFF!" she screams at the giant arm, giving it one last blast before following the others out. This went pear-shaped really quick, didn't it? But at least it looks like that Enark fellow will be saved... Eithne makes a sad note to add a marker for poor Wilson at the graveyard in Dun Realtai.
Rebecca Chambers	Normally, in a situation like this, Rebecca would cry out for Wilson. But in this situation, she's got a lot more to focus on than just that. "Let's go!" Rebecca yells out, trying to not feel bad for Wilson as they head for their escape route. Ever since the beginning of things Rebecca had a bad feeling about it all and it turns out her gut instinct was right. But for now, all she cares about is getting out of here. The medic tries to keep her breathing steadily as she runs away. While she's trying not to think about Wilson, something does come out of her mouth as she approaches one of the others, although she doesn't know entirely who it is, so most likely it'll be heard by everyone. "We can't save everyone..." is all Rebecca can say as they head out of the area. It's not until they get to a safe spot that she'll more than likely start feeling the emotions she's suppressing within herself right now.