(no subject)

[oblivium]

INHUMAN COURTESY

I. PUSHING UP DAISIES

---

cw: depiction of hanahaki, mention of blood, mild body horror

The Frightful Harvest ended on a bloody, eerie note, but the Respite's most welcome interlude has proven exceptionally fruitful. The sky's darkened again, moons struggling to glow through turbulent clouds, but crops all over Stygia have grown dense and healthy, herbs and plants and flowers aplenty. Normally, it'd be a time to rejoice, even as sleet pours and winds grow bitterly cold -- and it might have been, had greens and stems and petals NOT elected to blossom inside you. Your lungs, specifically.

It's an uncommon side effect of the Harvest, affecting those who foster affection or attraction towards another, triggered only by a stray thought. Almost as if punished by Oblivium for harboring any kind of positive feelings. The worst part is that the object of your desire doesn't even have to be in the Netherworld for you to be afflicted. Over the span of three months, you'll gradually experience various degrees of the "harvest's curse", depending on the source of your feelings:

► PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ATTRACTION & REQUITED LOVE
It starts with an itch. Your throat tickles, an odd sensation in your lungs, slightly constricted. Allergies? Not quite. It worsens overtime, and days pass by, perhaps weeks. You cough, a little more every day, a little deeper, and then it happens: petals, stuck to your lips as you wheeze and try to empty your chest. Marigold, carnations, daisies, peonies... Thankfully, for you, it's more of an annoyance, sporadic at best and leaving you exhausted at times, but you're in no immediate danger. Unfortunately, not all Restless share the same luck.

► UNREQUITED LOVE
It doesn't matter whether it is truly unrequited; as long as you think it is, whether you're fully convinced or distantly resigned, you get the whole package. It starts the same way the lesser variation does, gradual, and with unsavory (!) additions: lilies and dark red roses. The first slowly spreads its poison in your body, inducing fevers, skin rashes, blistering in your mouth and stomach aches. The second pricks your throat bloody, making speech difficult and breathing even more so. It spreads throughout Stygia, and if most wound up meeting their end in the past, some speak of a highly hypothetical cure. It's believed that if the object of your affection confesses equally strong feelings for you, the curse should rapidly subside. If this option isn't viable, Doran promises that all Healers in Hale are working extremely hard to find a solution. In the meantime, symptoms can be partially soothed with poultices and spells that you can find in the Marketplace or in Serene. Some merchants might even take pity on you and offer them for free.

if your character has heard of similar diseases in their home world, they're absolutely welcome to share their insight on the netherwork or anywhere else
the evolution of the disease can be as gradual, as fast or as severe as you wish it to be
a mini quest to retrieve ingredients for a cure will be available in december or january
by february, all characters should be cured

II. DO NOT PASS GO

---

cw: mention of blood, torture, branding, violence, forced captivity

Full-swing investigations concerning the Harvest's murders have begun, though the mysterious rider has yet to resurface. The day is young still, but no matter; the Hierarchy firmly believes that the creature was summoned by a group of renegades, fully intent on finding and dismembering the organization. Perhaps even literally.

If you've spilled blood not your own in the previous event, the Hierarchy finds you. Do they know? It doesn't really matter; they've targeted you for reasons they won't divulge, persuaded of your involvement -- and off to the Gallows you go. Each of you receives the same greeting when you arrive, held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with the letter F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’, and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the Hierarchy's hospitality. Writhe and scream and glower as much as you want; next thing you know, something heavy hits you across the head, and you collapse.

When your vision slowly creeps back, your eyes adjust to a dimly lit stone cell. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain, and you lie in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. It's dark; the air is bloated and filled with agonizing shrieks. Dead vines scrap the walls of half-crumbled buildings, weather-worn stone pillars surrounded by withered clumps of grass. You may converse with your cellmates: the guards patrolling the Gallows couldn't care less, convinced that no one could possibly escape anyway.

► Ironically, a magical barrier around the Gallows prevents magical/spiritual abilities from functioning. However, characters who roam free still can absolutely sneak in! Be careful not to get caught, though!
► Loud disagreements might attract unwanted attention. A single guard will come, and if he finds nothing else amiss, will threaten them to be quiet. A second violation earns the offender a rap on their bare feet with a club. A third violation will cause the offender to be gagged. Note that in order to beat or gag the offender, the guard must first open the cell.
► If you share affinities with Gargoyles, incapacitating a guard in any way will draw the attention of one. It'll show you to the gates where you'll be able to escape, taking care of sentries on your way. You should probably keep a low-profile from then on, and avoid showing-off your brand.
► A secret passage may be found through a mausoleum nearby; an arrow of flaking red paint marks the entrance. Or is it blood? Inside, it's nearly pitch-black. Perhaps, if you're lucky, your vision extends as far as 30 feet in front of you, but occasionally, the darkness is broken by clinging phosphorescent fungi or crawling luminescent creatures, and from out of the silence echo sounds of dripping water. You're underground, and Abysmals can be encountered here if you're too loud. You should also watch out for cave-ins, but as you get farther away from the general region of the Gallows, your magical abilities gradually come back.
► Eventually, a long, broken staircase will lead you to Hale. If you're injured, you'll be sent to the main infirmary; characters with healing abilities or knowledge are super welcome to help!

Luckily for you, there are so many prisoners it's a difficult task for the Hierarchy to always keep track of all of them. Your brand, however, is a dead giveaway, so you might as well try and find a way to get rid of it; you might hear through the grapevines that the dead skin of Badaliscus can be used as bandages, and overtime, the brand will fully heal and disappear.


III. TO THE RESCUE

---

As you attempt to escape, or perhaps once you’ve successfully snuck in, you come across a terrifying spectacle: in front of you, impaled through the shoulder by a spear, a weary humanoid figure covered in blood. The body is being restrained by additional shackles on each arm and leg, which are linked to chains anchored within the walls. There's a guard nearby, armed to the teeth… and still you decide to free them.

The guard’s magic is just as useless as yours, and while impressive in size, dexterity definitely isn’t his main strength. He hits hard — with brass knuckles, a chain mace, and a sturdy shield — and his stamina almost seems endless, but it’s not. Keep evading, and he’ll eventually tire enough to topple over. It’s also possible to have him chase you around if you don’t go too far, which would allow someone else to grab the spear. Once he’s too exhausted to go on, you can either kill him or chain him to the wall. The keys are in his boots, and you’ll find a bottle of water as well as a small vial of ointment in a satchel on the ground, where he previously stood.

The prisoner is a young man, perhaps in his mid-20s. Once freed from his shackles, he immediately keels over, though he’s not unconscious. He thanks you with a deep and raw voice, begging for water. You can tend to his wounds if you’re able—the ointment quickly soothes—and when he finally stands again, he asks you a question: “I’m a stranger to you, and you could have died. Yet, you chose to free me, unaware of my past. Of my crimes. Of my virtues. Why?”

Regardless of your answer, he smiles, a private understanding that turns the stretch of his lips enigmatic. There’s a bubbling chuckle in his throat, very hoarse, and then he hisses, touching where you’ve helped him apply the ointment on his body. “You know what they say. If it stings...” He looks at you, deliberately pausing there and staring bold into your eyes. “... then it must be working.”

It might feel like there’s more to what he’s trying to say, though it’s pointless to ask: he bows, and then he slowly inches away from you. “Until we meet again.” White and thick tendrils of smoke envelop him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and then just like that, he’s gone.

so you’ve chosen to free him, which in turn has generated a future plot point that’ll occur some time in february. some of you WILL see him again.
what he says to you is a clue.
you can answer his question OOCly right here. it’ll have some bearing on the way your character will be approached re: future plot point.
if you've voted no and would still like to participate, you could always allow your character to be convinced or reluctantly dragged by another!

ooc note

► As always, check out the Notice Board if you'd like additional prompts! Older quests from previous months are always available as well. You'll also find the Calendar right here.
► You'll find already answered questions just here, and if you'd like to ask new ones, ask them here!
► For fun's sake and similarly to the puck adventure, you may play it out in different groups or on your own, and still obtain the same results as everyone else whether your characters threaded together!

Comments

uchiha sasuke | naruto

[chokuto]

I. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐆𝐎 (cw: blood, violence, captivity)

[In the wan light, Sasuke stirs from his slouched position on the ground, peering through wrought-iron bars — left eye closed and right eye open, color a flat black. Shirtless, various old and healed scarring is visible on his upper body beside fresh scrapes and cuts, the worst standing out in a vivid F on the bicep of his severed left arm. Blood trickles from his hairline where he has suffered several blows; the cauterized branding is an angry, sore, shiny red.

His own resolute calmness betrays nothing of an active, calculative mind. He's watched the comings and goings of the guards assigned to the area for some time, and he's beginning to gather a better picture of their routine movements.

Eventually, someone else is hauled into the cell with him. Sasuke will ignore them unless they begin to speak to him first. If they're especially noisy, he'll snap:] Be quiet. Do you want their attention? If you aren't willing to keep your mouth shut, then we'll never have an opportunity to get out of this place. [Very sympathetic.

If, however, his cellmate is as quiet as him, his rasping voice will finally part the silence in a low murmur.] Have they told you of your crime? ... It's bothering me.

II. 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄

[Upon escape from the cell, Sasuke rushes toward the perimeter of the Gallows around them, sliding neatly into the shroud of darkness without sound. If you follow him, he'll eventually pick out the red-painted arrow through the mausoleum and lead the way into the cave passages — after stopping to collect both his phone and sword from the contents of a nearby bin.] Collect your belongings. Let's go. [He's not waiting for an answer.

In the caves, Sasuke navigates in continued silence, until abruptly stopping. If he's with someone, he will hold out his right arm to halt their progress forward.] ... We aren't alone.

[Out of the dark, an Abysmal appears, ambushing them. Its skin is a pale and rubbery gray, mouth wide to expose horrifically broken teeth as it roars, preparing to dive on tentacled limbs from its high place on a cavern wall.

At some point, Sasuke is separated from his companion and wanders the twisting, subterranean passageways alone, feeling his way through the limitless darkness. He hisses when he steps badly on one foot, ankle hurt from the shackles he wore in the prison; he kneels against a wall to rest.]

III. 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒 (cw: body horror relating to the hanahaki disease)

[He has gone several days without an episode following what had occurred behind Naruto's door. Long enough to convince himself of the fluke, strange magic embedded in a dimension he has yet to full understand — until it happens again. An ache, at first, a though he's swallowed an extra breath of air incorrectly. Then a tickle in his throat. Then a burn.

Sasuke is standing in public when it happens. Either at one of the central Notice Boards around the city; or purchasing food at a local market in the Harbors; or beneath the cool trees of Serene's forest, close to the library; or on the road leading out of the underground Hale quarter. Either way, he's easily seen as the fit takes him. At first an innocuous cough, it doesn't clear his airway. The coughing intensifies, until Sasuke is taking a wide step back, right hand fisted over his chest. Then he buckles to a knee, the force of it becoming a choke — and at last the petals splatter from his throat, bright canary yellow, freckled with blood.

He remains kneeling, staring in mute shock and breathing raggedly.]

IV. 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒, 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

[Throughout the month, Sasuke can be found in a number of locations related to quests or just general exploration.

1. Again, standing at a Notice Board to review the displayed quests. If your character also comes to investigate, he'll approach and possibly enlist them if they have combat experience, or especially if they are a healer and willing to reveal this to him. The quests he will be taking on this month are: Serene with the Shadow-possessed Restless; the Harbors fishing request; Mirth, but he'll need some convincing (possibly from your character?) because he dislikes Mirth and doesn't see why the person can't just find the lost films themselves (yes, he'll say this rudely).

2. Sasuke is regularly out in the wilds surrounding Stygia, including the Hinterlands and the Shadowlands. He's armed now with a sword (soul-forged or not? ~it's a mystery~) and he won't hide his presence if he comes across another Restless while he's exploring/monitoring the area. He may also be found close to the Forges, possibly in one of the underground passages, snooping as ninja do.

You can find my plotting comment here if you want to hit me up OOC!]

iii & iv - 2 combo??? if it's not cool, lemme know and i'll edit!!

[spaceassassin]

[ keith likes minding his own business. if he keeps to himself, more often than not, no one braves bothering him. it’s the sour resting face; unfortunate, maybe, but proactive in keeping people at arm’s length. a shame then, that keith’s timing is this: him exploring one of the less welcoming districts, treading on a nondescript path that’ll – as far as he can guess – lead to the infamous forges. it also, subsequently, leads to a blockage.

a restless, rather.

he’s a sorry looking thing, bent over his own sick that’s splattered all over the ground. a kindness would be him asking the typical, run of the mill, are you okay, but when the answer is apparent, keith sees little point in wasting breath. instead, he keeps his distance, gaze drawing forward and away. ]

You should get outta here. You’re only gonna draw attention to yourself.

[ and keith. though, the screams do help drown out that hacking. ]

it's perf!

[chokuto]

[He hears footsteps first, head turned only partially to reveal the gleam of a red right eye, maintaining his bent position until the other Restless comes into clearer view. It isn't someone he knows. Whether that is a blessing remains to be seen; they are, by default, an unknown entity.

The words coax him into movement at last, hinging at the waist to stand upright. He rakes his bloody mouth across the back of a wrist. Better to ignore the yellow petals on the dirt at his feet. He can't deal with that right now.]

Are you telling me to leave? [On his guard more than usual given their surroundings, the weight of his stare demands an answer.] You drew attention to yourself simply by walking over here. I heard your movements. [Unfair, perhaps, as he has the ability to disguise his presence better than most.]

Was your approach out of concern for my sake or your own? I could find fault in both.

[He's extra cranky today, sorry Keith.]

[spaceassassin]

[ his fellow blades would be pretty disappointed in him for being so clunky in his movements. it’s the wardrobe, okay? he’s got the equivalent of go-go boots that are just a hint tighter than they fit when he was eighteen. he isn’t equipped for stealth right now. though, the truth of the matter is that he’d been careless and inattentive, figuring he was still far enough out that some leisure could be taken in his travel.

so that does it. it doesn’t take much to have keith bristling, but prodding at his own failure gets him there in an instant. childishly, he rolls his eyes. ]

You setting up to lecture me or something?

[ could find fault in both, tch. ridiculous. ]

Think you’d do better to rest your throat. That looked like it hurt.

iii.

[wrists]

[ the library was difficult enough to get to, only reachable by an inordinate amount of climbing, and the texts laurent had finally located after nearly an hour of searching have clearly been altered to conceal information. all of the research involving the hierarchy is superficial — or children's stories, which he'd spent an afternoon reading before smuggling a tattered tome beneath his jacket to peruse later, pages missing and words murky.

there's a plague going around stygia, and laurent seems to have avoided the worst of it, minor aches and pains settling in his muscles, a mild tightness in his chest, a scratch in his throat. every so often, he chokes up a petal, red in color — not bloody, not quite the red of the regent's banners. he'd ground it beneath his boot when he'd identified it as the very specific red of akielon royalty.

damen would climb these trees easily. or not, too much of a giant animal. laurent trudges through the forest alone, feeling the absence of his company — not exactly pleasurable, but he'd grown familiar with it, to having a miserable companionship of sorts, and now days have gone by where he hasn't exchanged a meaningful word with anyone. it's not so different from being at the palace.

then, his eyes fall on a familiar figure, only it startles him to see sasuke in this current state. the sickness is much further along in him, as laurent watches a bundle of bright, bloody petals expel themselves from his throat.

he should leave him. their encounters have always ended poorly, and laurent has pages of densely incomplete reading to string together. but maybe the sting of his own loneliness is a bit too acute in the quiet forest, because he approaches him all the same. ]

I can't find my handkerchief. [ laurent stops a pace away, looking down at him, holding the book over his chest. he eyes the petals. ] You never gave it back.

[chokuto]

[It is only the third time Laurent has approached him, yet the cadence of those footsteps — light-heeled, quick — identifies him in the moments before he speaks. Sasuke need not even turn around to know who it is, although the voice colors the rest of the image, as cool and contentious as every last instance he's heard it. Of course it would be Laurent to find him like this. Of course, like moths to flame, they seem to crash into the vulnerability of an opening. Everything seems to be more painful around Laurent; it can't be intentional, but that does not make it easier to sort out the tangle of emotion he feels when he lifts his gaze to a pair of blue eyes. These conversations are so much more difficult than the brisk detachment he successfully extends to everyone else.

Sasuke rises to his feet with effort, fatigued, and in the process he drags the toe of his shoe across the petals to hide them beneath the dirt. Stop looking.]

Did you expect it to be returned? [His voice is raspy, a little wet.] Maybe you should have said.

[His right hand slips into the pocket of dark trousers, revealing the silk handkerchief in question — royal blue, emblazoned gold — now cleaned of drink. He presses it to his mouth, wiping away the excess blood.]

You won't want it any longer.

[wrists]

[ even covered with dirt, laurent can't erase the image of the bloodied petals from his mind. sasuke's lips are stained red, only a tinge of color remaining after he utilizes the stolen handkerchief — and laurent finds the strangest feeling budding like an ugly thorn with him, pinpricks of what can only be jealousy. nonsensical. absurd to be jealous of the clear progression of sasuke's sickness, but it the news has made it all around stygia by now, that the ailment is directly correlated to affection and attraction, and it can only mean that sasuke feels something much more strongly than laurent has ever experienced in his young life.

and he's jealous of it. jealous that sasuke knows what it's like, even if the price of it is high. laurent has only felt burning hatred, been dragged through the rotten depths of despair, held paralyzed by his own grief. a mere glance at damen brought back all those feelings and more. but then his stupid akielon slave had saved his life, had ridden by his side, had begun teaching him war strategy and undressing him nightly and — something had begun to open inside of him to reveal the smallest cracks of light, painfully, blindingly bright. laurent had acutely felt his youth then, his lack of experience, his inability to identify his own feelings.

and then this. waking in the netherworld, no damen, none of the prince's guard, no one. and now that feelings sits, a nameless thing between hatred and affection, stunted and unattended, for laurent to feel daily like a whispering wind, a hollow, phantom wound. an incomplete, nonsense story he can share with no one. ]

Those are my colors. [ his eyes flicker to the handkerchief, referring to the conversation on royalty that he'd cut short. ] The colors of the prince's household. That, that you just wiped your blood on, is my crest.

[ then, after a beat — ] There's news of a cure, for your ailment. But some people don't believe it, and you certainly won't like it.

III!

[janescayre]

[This is a library. A sacred place. She's been shutting herself away inside at every conceivable opportunity. How can she not? Even with part of the collection in shambles there is a breathtaking variety available, both familiar and alien, and it's more than she could consume in two lifetimes. Perhaps she should be grateful for this less-than-pleasant eternity.

Besides which, spending time in a handsome library reminds her of other handsome things. Say, a graceful progeny with ice-blue eyes and golden hair, briskly turning the pages of a novel. Byakuya-sama had enjoyed the fruits of literature as much as she, and she longed to hear his thoughts on every word ever printed.

As her thoughts began to stray, the coughing had started up. Again. She wasn't sure what was wrong, until something thin and flat had edged out of her mouth. Fukawa had plucked it free and turned it back and forth in the light, gobsmacked.

She was rushing out to return home (does Lottie have a remedy for this?) when she nearly barrels into another boy, bent on one knee and coming off of some wretched fit. On the ground before him is a petal, speckled with blood.

Fukawa's fist curls around her own. Her voice comes out quiet, horrified.]

Y-you too?

[chokuto]

[He looks up sharply at the approach, lack of recognition on his face at the girl who stands there in front of him. In an effort to wipe away the vulnerability of the fit, Sasuke rises and scrapes his right wrist across his mouth to clear the smear of blood. There's a lingering taste in his mouth: metallic and coppery, but also earthen like soil. He swallows against it, wishing for water.]

What do you mean, 'you too'? [Voice weary and hoarse, eyes shadowed, skin pale — he is having a rough day of it. Give him a moment to register through the foggy state of his mind.] ... The illness.

[That doesn't bode well. Is it contagious? Sasuke glances to the yellow petals in the dirt, swiping the heel of his foot across them as if to hide their remnants, before he addresses the girl again more sternly.]

Tell me what happened, and what you're feeling now.

[janescayre]

[He's a stranger to her too. Maybe someone she'd consider handsome, if sickness weren't molding him into a waxen figure. Worse off than her, most certainly.

Perhaps that's the next step. Maybe she'll wander around gaunt as a ghost and hacking up whole blossoms.

He stamps on his upheaved petals. Fukawa uncurls her fist. Within is a tender flake off a peony, now crushed, ripe pink with a bloody speckle on the edge. She lets it fall to the ground and scrubs her hand on her skirt, wishing she had something more robust to dispel the blood. Even small traces make her queasy, and the implications are, well...absurd.

As is everything else in this shithole.]

What the — d-don't get all pushy with me! [Seriously. She backs off a step, hands clutched to her chest.] I just coughed that up, same as you!

[She looks to the abused remains of his flower, wedged into the dirt.]

Just n-not as much. You're really in the thick of it, aren't you?

iv

[unalign]

[ guess who's snooping around the forges as well, standing out like a sore thumb in the underground passages in her white dress?

to be fair, no one's seen her slip into the passages, the path barely lit by the glowing stones on her clothes, surprisingly quite adept at sneaking around as well. that, and a lot of the guards are seemingly preoccupied with something, thick tension brewing in stygia as a result. a part of her wonders what it's all about, if it's related to the events from last month, if something terrible is going to happen soon.

not that there isn't anything happening right now, suddenly struck with the reflex to cough rather harshly. one hand reaches out for the wall, her other hand pressed tightly over her mouth as her throat ejects a handful of bright red petals.

but even before she can recover, she's whipping around, a silver sword in the hand that once held windwheel aster petals. a spot of blood stains the corner of her lips as her expression tightens, her eyes narrowing in the dimness. she can sense something—no, someone. ]

Who's there?

[chokuto]

[The flash of the sword draws him to pause, a healthy distance away from its brandished blade. He heard her coughing; it doesn't take much to piece together the rest, having witnessed several other Restless now suffering around Stygia. Himself among them.]

Relax. I mean you no harm.

[His voice calls out, echoing off the cavern walls, silhouette far more subtle than her own, dark and soundless. It's no wonder she hadn't noticed his approach until he was right there. Or perhaps she sensed him — it seems possible, even if they don't share the same abilities.]

Uchiha Sasuke. I am one of several Restless who arrived more recently. [He steps forward, doing nothing to hide the sheathed weapon at his own waist.] And you? If you're in this area, you must be aware of the Forges. What is your goal here?

[unalign]

[ there's a long beat, before lumine dismisses her sword, the blade disappearing into a flurry of gold despite her gaze briefly brushing over his own weapon. ever since she's somehow found herself debilitated by this strange illness, it's felt like her guard has been lowered, her attention divided between the variety of teyvat flowers that she seems to be expelling her lungs and the rest of the netherworld.

it's disconcerting and unsettling, to say the least. ]

I wanted to see what the fuss is all about it.

[ she's heard more than enough about soul-forging; the blacksmith she's delivered the star fragments, too, wasn't exactly very secretive about it. the fact that only a handful of people are knowledgeable of the art is piquing her curiosity. ]

I guess you're here for that reason, too?

iv. hinterlands, though we don't actually have to do the quest

[executory]

[ In the end, the Han Sooyoung Kim Dokja Cooperation gets her a sword.

It's nothing fancy, just a blade attached to a hilt, and likely to chip and break after only a handful of battles, but it's better than the nothing she had before. And her flames can still encase it when need be, though they don't shine quite so bright as they do around her precious Sword of Justice.

The key, apparently, is to power up the thing with the additon of a soul, though how she's meant to do that she's still not sure. Instead, she settles for doing what she can do, which is to take jobs as they come, both off the notice board and otherwise. Some of them are simple, like fishing. Others.....well, there's a reason she's wandering the foothills of the Hinterlands now, ambling towards the first figure she sees. ]

Hey, you haven't seen a star crash around here, have you?

[ At least she's not shy in stating her intentions. ]

don't you want to rp extensive action scenes

[chokuto]

[Sasuke can appreciate the straightforward question, saving him the need to figure out her motives. It's not the first time he's crossed paths with another Restless, as inevitably as it happens, but less common are they out here in the wilderness. A pair of cool, mismatched eyes assess the woman, drifting briefly over the weapon. She must have combat experience, then. He comes forward, descending the slope of a hill with silent movement.]

You're searching for the fragments. [He'd seen the considerable reward, of course, and had done some of his own investigation.] Is that weapon soul-forged?

[The sword at his own waist, blade straight and undecorated, is considerably more durable than hers — although difficult to tell at a glance.]

iv.

[lackluster]

[ It almost feels like a routine at this point, the way he settles down by the harbor, casts his line into the murky waters, and then he waits for the fish to bite. This reminds him of when he was much younger, of days when he and his father would wake up at the crack of dawn just so they could get an early head start when it comes to fishing at a frozen lake.

Sometimes, digging into inches deep of frosted waters would take much longer than waiting for the first bite, but those days feel so far away now. Even more so when he thinks about how he's supposedly dead — but he tries not to let his thoughts stray too far into that depressing territory.

When he senses that someone is approaching him, or rather the area he's in, he looks up and sees Sasuke. He doesn't recognize this person at all but that doesn't mean he won't have a smile ready for him. ]

Hey. Are you going fishing too?

[ He could always use the company since this could become terribly boring without someone to talk to. ]

[chokuto]

[The smile isn't returned. He's accustomed to casual friendliness, especially from other Restless, but it continues to disorient him in its strangeness — too used to being recognized by sight or reputation, too used to that reception of either fear or awe. Perhaps it'll become more natural with time. Anonymity isn't something he dislikes, here.

Armed with supplies, including fishing hooks and a net, Sasuke approaches the shore. He's barefoot as he crosses the sand.]

Can't you tell from looking? [... All right, a bit sharp for so early in the morning.] Yes. There's a need for it in the city, and the pay is higher than usual.

Who are you?

[He's certain he hasn't seen this stranger around.]

i—

[arrancar]

( he didn't go quietly.

if it wasn't for how absolutely on the nose his powers' performance issues were with choosing the worst possible moment to stop working, grimmjow would have escaped the hierarchy's clutches entirely. unfortunately, that was not the case. he got ambushed, caught and then dragged off to the gallows.

to his credit, he gave the guards a real rough go. they weren't nearly strong enough to break through his hierro's defense to knock him out, so all they could do was render him immobile with chains and carry him all the way there.

by the time he gets hastily secured in a cell, grimmjow has the most feral look on his face, only magnified by the dried up blood around the corners of his mouth. )

YOU'RE ALL FUCKIN' DEAD. I'M GONNA KILL EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

( he doesn't pay attention to the other person in the prison until the familiarity of his voice reaches his ears and immediately pulls his gaze away from their captors. with unabashed delight, grimmjow looks over at the fire boy. )

You're here too. ( what a stroke of luck. ) Not as strong as you claim yourself to be, eh, boy?

[chokuto]

[He identifies Grimmjow first by the sound of his voice. He doesn't need to turn his head to see, staring instead resolutely forward, back propped against the far corner of the cell where the stone is cool through tattered gaps in his shirt. A headache has already built up behind his eyes; he keeps the left one closed, concealing Rinnegan's concentric rings from view. The yelling only makes it worse, which is why he ignores Grimmjow up until they're thrown together in the same cell.

Then, it's not like he has much of a choice. This truly is a punishment.]

If strength has anything to do with it, why haven't you escaped yet?

[Surely Grimmjow's noticed the effect of whatever it is they've established here, preventing use of otherworldly abilities.]

Also, it's not 'boy'. [Sharp, irritated, patience worn to threads... he's tired of being called that.] My name is Uchiha Sasuke.

wildcard rescue at last (lmk if I need to change anything!)

[orobashi]

( It's moments after a guard has passed that something new happens. Sasuke might be able to pick up on the small scrape of her foot against the ground as she slides to a stop just before his cell. A glance both ways answers that her information is still accurate— the rotations of the guards seems to be working perfectly. That means that anyone else that she's split ways with during this rescue should be on track, as well.

It's better that she's alone for this part, she thinks, even with a lack of physical defense for herself. Stealth is key, and she wants this to be as peaceful and quiet as they all can manage. Of course, she's equipped to handle battle if she must, but without her vision, it would be even more of an obstacle.

Still, she's prepared for it all, and so as she ducks out in front of the cell in Sasuke's view, it's with one finger held almost playfully to her lips to quiet any potential reaction, and the other hand quickly moves to unlock his cell. She looks incredibly out of place, pink and vibrant, but her eyes are serious, and her movements say she's used to this. )

The next shift should be moving in within moments, so I'm moving slowly on this block, one cell at a time.

( A quiet explanation, wordy but whispered. She steps aside for Sasuke. )

Come.

works for me! ❤

[chokuto]

[There's no coincidence in the approach. Sasuke is quiet, listening, picking up the noise of light footsteps on stone – he's not shocked to see a figure step out from the shadow near his cage. He is surprised by the young woman's appearance, feminine and vibrant as she is compared to the grim darkness of their surroundings. He doesn't recognize her. Still, it is clear that there's nothing careless about the way she unlocks the cell in the perfect window of opportunity with the guards gone. Her words only confirm it.]

If that's true, you are methodical about this. You must have gathered intelligence.

[Nothing about the woman's presence suggests that she was also a prisoner; she is too put-together, too clean and unmarred compared to his own tattered clothing and sore wounds. Sasuke keeps his own voice low as he responds, right eye briefly checking the passage behind her with caution. Then he gets to his feet, slowly, unsteadily. The shackles on his ankles chatter gently with the movement. His teeth are clenched against the pain, so his voice comes out strained.]

Who are you? If you know the rotation schedule, do you also know the path out?

@zangetsu

[chokuto]

[Sasuke had stopped closely tracking the time in this dimension not long after he'd noticed its murky, unreliable nature. At some point it had become a futile exercise in madness. The sun set, the moon rose, occasionally the glitter of alien stars gleamed through a blanket of dark clouds... Again and again, to no seeming pattern. The weather is moderately better if only because storms are mercurial by nature. At least he can expect those not to follow the rule of time.

Yet today, as perhaps on many other similar days, Serene is an exception. The sky is a shade of almost-blue gray, the air — while crisp — doesn't bear the bone-numbing cold of the past week, and the greenery of gardens and woodlots is lush and full despite the season. It's gradually becoming the place Sasuke spends most of his time, when he isn't out in the wilds or doing errands in the city. Serene is quiet, peaceful. And it has a library.

Wearier than usual, Sasuke's found a spot on one of the upper floors, tucked away in an alcove with a broad oak table and lanterns burning a bright, magical fire. He's alone. Several books are stacked in front of him, although he's not reading. Instead, he's examining a vial in his right hand — the oil glints golden in the light. After a few moments and a deep, rasping cough tucked into a shoulder, Sasuke bites off the rubber stopper and begins to spread warm oil over his throat.

It's... very awkward one-handed, as some of the oil trickles down into the collar of his shirt to stain the fabric. But he's doing his best.]

[zangetsu]

（ up until jonas' post and the resultant kerfuffle over curse/not-a-curse that ensued, he hadn't actually considered his current... affliction to be anything but one more stupid thing to deal with in this world full of stupid things. hearing things that other people can't hear and seeing things other people can't see has been so much of his life up to this point that hearing footsteps and giggles really isn't beyond the pale for him — but now that the idea's in his head, he's wondering too. is it fixable, or just something he has to live with?

he has about a dozen books balanced precariously in his arms, and he's walking determinedly past the occupied tables to find a quiet corner of himself when he. stops.

looks at the guy currently occupying a prime piece of real estate in the perfect cool-kids-corner. there is a moment where his brain is struggling to recall where he's seen the guy before. it clicks, and he makes an enlightened sort of huh before he barges into the alcove, dumps his books onto the far end of the table, and says: ）

For somebody who can take out three guards with a stick, you're doing a pretty shit job at whatever that's supposed to be.

（ this is a perfect greeting and he will accept no criticism, thank you. but after he makes it clear it's not a hostile statement by following it up with a: ）

Kurosaki. Who're you?

iv / star fragments

[gleichgewicht]

[ After what must be hours of walking through the woods with his broadsword at his side, Jugram crests a dark hillock and looks down at a crater filled with tiny dancing flames like dozens of lit matches several meters down the slope. He narrows his eyes slightly—six senses though he may possess, he's still limited by the quality of his eyesight when he tries to make out details as opposed to location, and even in the scant moonlight it's far too dark to discern why the flames are moving from such a distance.

Whatever it is, it's probably supernatural in origin, and potentially dangerous. Jugram doesn't turn his head when he feels the approach of reiatsu behind him—fortunately, his perception of spiritual pressure hasn't ebbed much in this moment—but when the stranger enters his peripheral vision and comes to stand on the same ridge, he does speak up. ]

Can you see what those are?

[ There are beasts here, different species, humans with innumerable odd abilities. It's not unfathomable that someone might have better eyesight in the darkness than himself, and reserved though he may be, he's not opposed to asking for help when practical. ]

[chokuto]

[In the darkness, Sasuke doesn't mask his approach. What he feels from this individual is akin to what he's felt in the presence of only two others—a uniqueness to the signature of energy that sets it apart from chakra, and more immense than any of the life force carried by ordinary people. Therefore, he knows he isn't alone long before he climbs that ridge to stand a distance apart, dissimilar eyes turned down onto the flaming creatures in the crater, right hand on the hilt of a straight blade at his hip.]

I see a strong affinity with fire. There are twelve in total. It could be they are "elementals", which is what the inhabitants of this world use to call those beings who are born of that nature alone. [Sasuke's head turns, revealing the eerie red glow of his right eye.] It's clear to me that you have experience, and more power than many of those who reside in this place. Is that why you've come here seeking the star fragments?

[Sasuke has tracked and pursued many of the tasks publicly posted, drawn further to those situated in dangerous terrain. If there is anything he is prepared to handle, it is an errand of this kind, where combat is necessary.]

Our goal is the same.