[ PRP ] Work to be done (Shaheen)

[WE ARE HALLOWEEN]

Medea stared over at the pile. No, absolutely not, it was definitely not enough. She thought she had made every single colour, but it was becoming very obvious that she was lacking green yarn. Now how would she ever make all the green sweaters for her precious little darlings?

And by precious little darlings, literally, off to an alcove on the side, in something that looked like a playpen, a bunch of fluffy foxfires, doing what foxfires did best at looking stupid, slightly adorable, and not realizing the terrible fate that awaited them.

The Head Priestess shuffled through her pile of foxfire sweaters, severely disappointed in herself. Too many red sweaters: at this rate, she would never finish them on time. Those poor, sad foxfires would be so cold. They would never find their true path and-

"Head Priestess?" A Death Guardian made his way through the door, bowing lowly. "I am sorry to interrupt, but there is a fragment that has been lost to us, a piece of In-"

-"I understand," Medea interrupted rather shortly. Couldn't they see she was busy? "But I have far more important matters to tend to right now." The Guardian just kind of waffled there for two good minutes as she continued knitting and debating tiny sweater patterns. She finally sighed: Guardians valued customs a little more than the average clansman and he probably wasn't going to leave until she gave him a resolute answer. "All right then, find a soldier, strong, noble, and brave enough to partake in the task of removing the errant fragment so that we may rest in peace." A pause. "All paths lead to the same end."

That was all the Guardian needed, it must have been some sort of trigger phrase as he went out to find a horsemen worthy of the task.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Shaheen had just finished with a morning of heavy training, something she did daily to try and distract herself from the whispers in her head, when the death guardian approached her. She was nothing short of a dirty, sweaty, tangled mess but even that didn't stop her from holding her head high and stretching her already tall frame of 6'2", and yes, even flaring her wings a bit to make herself appear bigger, stronger, and more proud then the man that came to a halt in front of her. His words had her brow furrowing, however, her golden eyes flickering behind him towards where Medea's residence lay and then back to his face.

"A task?" She repeated the words. It wasn't that going on tasks was uncommon, since she often went on ones to the human world to collect Fear. But to be summoned by Medea herself? Personally?

Well, to say that Shaheen's ego inflated just a little was likely an understatement. She had no idea that the guardian had likely just picked the first chieftain or somewhat reputable horseman that he laid his eyes on. She just assumed that it was that Medea needed her and only her to do whatever it was that needed to be done.

It was about time she got some recognition around here!

And so she bid the guardian lead the way, her lips curving up into their usual smirk as she followed behind him, running fingers through her hair a few times and quickly reaching around to braid it back out of her face, while then adjusting her clothes and brushing off most of the dirt and dust. She wanted to at least look presentable by the time she got there.

When they reached the entrance to Medea's abode, the guardian stopped and gestured for her to enter. She gave him a simple nod then pushed the door open, striding into the room where Medea was....

....Knitting...tiny..sweaters.

Her momentary pause seemed to stretch out endlessly, until she finally shook off her surprised shock and raised golden eyes from the pile of little sweaters to Medea's face.

"You have need of me for a task, High Priestess?" She questioned, her face carefully blank to hide her own amusement and shock.  

[WE ARE HALLOWEEN]

She had just finished the sleeve of the last tiny sweater, it was almost perfect. Only another fifty more and her work would be complete. She wiped the sweat off her brow and nodded slightly, to address that yes, she did acknowledge someone else was inside the room with her other than fifty tiny little scurrying foxfires in the room. "There is a shard, a fragment of an artifact, tainted by the corruption of Insanity." Medea seemed almost distracted as she talked, the clack of the needles intermittent with her words. "You have been chosen, as a clansman of War, heralding power and strength, to retrieve the shard so it may be purified. Trust in yourself, and remember your oath to the clans, and your path shall be true."

One of the little foxfires yipped and scuffled, and Medea walked over to absently hand it another Fear Candy, thankfully stepping at the same time to unsnap one of her bracelets. It instantly formed into a glowing portal, oddly distorted. "The path is dangerous, but the trial more rewarding. Remember that all paths lead to the same end." Medea nodded.

OOC

- Shaheen must go into the portal and retrieve the shard! She can do so with another horsemen, if she pleases, or venture alone solo.

Prompt: You step through and seem to be in some sort of old dilapidated house. Around you is a strange low fog: below you as well. You feel like this place is familiar, reminding you very much of the inside of the Inverted Haunted House.
- Something is calling to you, you can feel the distortion from the shard you were asked to retrieve but it is almost covered entirely by something else, a feeling you are familiar with as it whispers to you, come Home.
- If you hit over 50% Insanity, everything turns to a massive grey, and you have a hard time focusing reality from what is going on. You feel confused and lost.

gaia_crown Step 1: Room 1

The first room is blank, though as you take a step, the fog thins and curls away: below you is an infinite chasm. There is something so oppressive about the area that weighs you down, making you feel ten times heavier than you are: flying is impossible. The ledges, if they can even be called that, are extremely narrow and the door at the other end seems so far away.

- Roll 1d10. You must do this three times.
- If in ANY of your dice rolls you roll 1, you hear a loud crack, as your ledge begins to crumble... you barely manage to jump to the other side... it was a close call
- For each time you roll even you gain +10% Insanity.
- If you pass, proceed to STEP 2.

gaia_crown STEP 2: Room 2

The entire room is full of blank, humanoid figures made entirely out of fog. They look more like pillars of white and grey. They do not move, simply staring ahead, clustered very close together in even rows. You need to make your way across the room to the door on the other side.
- You recognize their faces. The fallen of your clansmembers. Looking straight at them creates a sense of vertigo, as if you are being directly sucked in to feelings of guilt and confusion.

- Roll 1d6. You must do this three times.
- For each time you roll even you gain +10% Insanity.
-If any of your dice rolls to a 1 you suddenly accidentally brush against one of the figures. Every single pillar turns their face only to stare right at you. You feel a strange rustling, a malevolence, as suddenly from around you hundreds of foggy hands, grab your figure, crying something as more and more hands appear from the foggy abyss... you almost feel yourself swallowed in but continue on
- If you manage to make it through, you are on Step 3.

gaia_crown Step 3: You enter a room that is entirely white. You can't even see where everyone else is. You need to navigate through the room blind.

Roll 1d6. You need to do this two times. Whenever you roll even, you feel something reaching towards you, the brush of a feather or the scrape of a knife.
- If you manage to pass through this phase you are at the end.

gaia_crown Step 4: THE END.
- You finally see the shard Medea mentioned ahead. You grab for it -

- Suddenly, you see the fog curling around your feet, growing thicker now. You watch in horror, slow motion as it begins to crawl up you, consuming you, watch slowly as your figure distorts and contorts, consumed in fog - and consumes you entirely.
- A voice whispers in the back of your mind, calling you Home, whispering you closer. While you have regained the shard, you have lost a bit of yourself to it as well.

- Whenever Shaheen returns back to the portal, the mission is considered completed, any and however way.

 

[Seussi]

The war chieftain listened carefully to what was required of her, brows furrowing ever so slightly as she nodded, shifting on her feet and glancing around the room at the many sets of eyes that seemed to stare back at her, nearly hidden behind faces of fluff. Was this truly how the Head Priestess chose to spend her free time? Shaheen had been expecting her to be in some kind of meditative state, with burning pyres and incense. Not clacking away with needles and red yarn. It was almost disconcerting, really.

It was the word insanity that snapped her attention forward again, something inside of her jolting at the mere mention of the word. Her curiosity was suddenly peaked, even as her ego was stroked at the mention of power and strength. But with that curiosity, and despite her feelings of superiority, a certain amount of trepidation existed within her. A task to retrieve an artifact shard that was tainted with insanity sent faint alarms of warning ringing in her head, but she tried to shake it off. Medea would not send her on a task if she thought that the chieftain could not handle it. She offered the woman a nod, before speaking. "Yes Priestess. Of course. I will leave immediately."

It did occur to her briefly that perhaps she might have been better off to take somebody with her and not do this on her own. But her pride would not allow for it. She could and would do this alone. She did not need any help. Medea was entrusting her with this task and she had a chance now to prove her worth.

The portal opened, and she took a step towards it, pausing for just a moment to listen to the last of Medea's words, while remembering something Shik had said to her not all that long ago. Danger? She did not balk at danger. Her lips curled up into a smirk. "I will not disappoint you." She replied, her wings shifting a little bit on her back, the only sign of her unease that really showed through all of that arrogance and pride and confidence that she so often hid herself behind now.

The chieftain stepped forward and through the portal, into whatever world lay ahead of her, unknowing, unwilling to take time to contemplate a chance that ill fate might fall upon her from this adventure.  

[Seussi]

Determined steps saw her through the portal, but upon reaching the other side she stopped abruptly, the low hanging fog swirling around her legs and feet. A shudder worked it's way up her spine as feelings of both disgust and trepidation mingled inside of her. But not fear. She was of War and would fear nothing. Not the whispers in her head, nor the inevitable outcome of her affliction.

If she continued to tell herself this, then it would ultimately make it true, would it not?

All she could see everywhere was white and grey fog, obscuring everything, making the room around here appear as though it were made of nothing but that. The moment she had entered there had been a calling, almost like a pull from an invisible line urging to go in a certain direction, but it was weirdly obscured, almost as though muffled. The voices in her head raised in volume and hissed, making her shake her head as though the motion could mute them. A single word, one that she was most familiar with since her last adventure in the Haunted House, whispered at her insistently, also tugging at her as though wishing to guide her. "Home".

The chieftain closed her eyes for a moment, her breathing slowing as she attempted to find her calm center. An area nearly devoid of emotional interference, a place where she would be able to see things more clearly without all of the clutter that would attempt to distract her. She would not be successful, but it did help, a little. When her golden eyes flickered back open she began to move, towards the calling...

The fog began to swirl and shift. The very air around her began to feel heavy, like it was weighing her down. It was constrictive, and her heart skipped a beat as all that was left beneath her once the fog cleared was a narrow ledge spanning across what appeared to be a bottomless chasm. Automatically her wings attempted to spread out behind her, to be used for balance or even flight, but their movements were slow, weighted, and ultimately useless. She felt the feathers ruffle as the wings settled firmly against her back, immobile now. No flying then, but she could and would still walk on, despite the dangers. She still had a task to do.

And if she could solve any mysteries of insanity along the way, all the better.  

[Seussi]

Her movements were slow and sluggish, each step forward along the ledge spanning what felt like ages. She could see the door at the end of the precipitous trail, what she assumed was the end, the direction from which she could feel the faint calling of what might have been the object. It may have also been something else, but right now, this is what she had to go on. She continued on, ignoring the call to come home to her best abilities, and occasionally looking over the side of her rocky ledge to the empty black chasm below. This was not something she had experienced in the Haunted House before, but was very aware of it's ability to change. She had to wonder if this was indeed the same place. The feeling of familiarity, the similarities, the fog....it was easy to see why a connection would be made. Though the last time she had been in the Haunted House, she had been cured...

Well, temporarily at least. She remembered that her cure had come from a vial, and had been only temporary. She'd had Shik and a few others to thank for that, however. For her hour of relief from the whispers. But then she had slowly begun to revert back, and she had quickly come to find that the nightmare hadn't ended as she had hoped.

And then it had been like she had fallen asleep, only to wake up whole and pure and unaffected once more. Sure there had been an aching emptiness inside of her, a strange and inexplicable hole that left her feeling incomplete but...but the voices had been gone. Her skin had been unmarked. She had been free.

Could it have been real? It certainly hadn't lasted once she had gotten back outside, back to the encampment once more. But could it have been that the answer to the cure was there, or even, here? The answer laid somewhere in the fog...

It was a faint glimmer of hope in a tide of darkness, but it was the best she'd had up until this point. Maybe beyond finding the shard, she would find something else as well, something better, something to fix this.

She continued onward, against the odds weighing her down, with just a little more determination in her step.  

[Seussi]

She was nearing the end with a renewed sense of determination and hope running through her veins, helping her push her way onward and forward through this mess to see it to it's conclusion. Each step took her just a little closer towards the end, towards that door that she had convinced herself now that answers would by waiting behind. If she could just make it to that door.....

Mid step she began to feel it. A creeping sensation that worked it's way through her just as the voices began to slither away through her mind in earnest, louder and louder by the second. Dizziness and nausea over took her as her foot fell and she pressed fingers to the sides of her temples as her eyes squeezed shut. Over and over again something hissed at her, telling her to come home.

"Shut up!" She snapped, growling at them as her eyes flew back open, locked on that door. If she could just get to the other side...

She continued on, and she made it to the door, finally, despite the whispers, despite the faint sense of disorientation, despite the fog that seemed to cling to her legs as she passed through it. She pushed it open and stepped into the new room.

+10% Insanity  

[Seussi]

The new room was horrible. She should have stayed in the last room.

While the weight from the previous room seemed to have lifted, leaving her movements free and easy once more, the War chieftain could only stop and stare with eyes gone wide, and then narrowed in suspicion. Figures, human shaped but standing in rows, more like pillars or soldiers stood immobile and waiting for the command to march. Their faces..yes, they had faces if she looked carefully enough, all seemed to be staring in the same direction.

She moved towards one figure, slowly and cautiously, bare feet treading lightly upon the floor as she moved through swirling tendrils of fog in near silence herself, despite the pounding in her head and the whispers that now seemed to come from everywhere at once. She moved forward, and she looked closer at it's face, curiosity creasing her forehead as details and angles and attributes became more clear. And then her eyes widened once more and she took hasty steps backwards in retreat with a quiet gasp. These weren't just featureless pillars of fog.

They were horsemen. Fallen comrades. Friends, allies, family.....and she couldn't look away. Her eyes were locked on that face, that all too familiar face of the girl..no, the woman that she had been mentoring. Training to become a warrior, teaching her the ways of war and battle, of conflict and strife, of weaponry and resourcefulness. As she looked at her she began to feel dizzy began to feel as though she were falling, tottering on her feet, a hand coming up to rest with fingers splayed across her forehead, the palm of her hand pressed against the bridge of her nose. Anger and accusation seemed to greet her from the woman's eyes as she continued to fall into her, sucked in, consumed. She reached out as though to stop her fall, her hand making contact with a foggy shoulder.

And then she felt it. Eyes on her, every single pair of eyes in the room from every pillar of fog. Ayasha was looking at her. They were all looking at her, and all she could feel from those cold, lifeless gazes was a feeling of pain and malice, all directed at her. She cringed and tried to pull away, to go back, but foggy tendrils had wound their way around her, arms were reaching for her, impossibly long, their fingers grasping for her, pulling, stifling, smothering, consuming. This was the end, they were screaming at her, something....something....

And then she was back, in her body, standing with hands at her sides, her breathing heavy as her heart beat out a pounding rhythm in her chest. The whispers somehow seemed even louder now, her paranoia rising as her eyes flickered towards yet did not linger on the figures in the fog. More faces were emerging as recognizable, their features stark and bare for her to gaze upon, but she kept her eyes averted. She felt stifled, smothered, her chest tight, her breathing difficult. She felt the accusation and malice resonating off of those figures, and there were so many of them! So many even now, after countless others had returned.

She needed to find a way out of here. She felt the pull of what she sought for and it was not here. But it was close, closer then it had been.

Steeling herself, she began moving among the figures, searching for a means of escape.

+20% Insanity  

[Seussi]

She began navigating herself between pillars of fog, following the pull hat continued to lead her to what would hopefully be the end of this labyrinth of rooms and mist. She had to be careful, oh so careful, not to touch any of the forms that loomed around her, and she continued to keep her eyes averted no matter how tempting it was to gaze upon the faces of those who she had lost. She was still shaking inwardly, still picturing the greyed out face of her former protege, Ayasha. She had been small, by war standards, but what she lacked in size she had made up for in spirit and strength and cunning. She would have been a chieftain someday, Shaheen had known it from the first moment they had begun her training. They had been close, but only as a teacher was close to their student. Shaheen had never had many friends, and Ayasha had not been the exception. No, if anything she had been..more like a sister to the chieftain. She had cared about her in a different way then one would a friend. Had felt in some ways as though she had been raising her, nurturing her like she would a child, molding her into something great.

And then the isles had fallen. She hadn't been able to save her, nor anyone else. Had only saved herself.

Selfish. A wave of self loathing roiled up from her stomach, and that combined with the earlier dizziness and the pounding of voices whispering to her to come home nearly made her retch. But they had brought back so many. They could bring back the rest, surely. She could save them, given time. And had she really saved herself, considering how she was tainted now? No, she still needed to save herself as well.

Again she wondered what answers might lay hidden in that fog. Again she moved, carefully, towards a final destination.  

[Seussi]

Though she had told herself that she would not look at any of the faces around her it was like she just couldn't help herself, and each time she regretted it, as they almost seemed to suck her in, forcing on her desperate feelings of guilt and confusion. She stared into the faces of some of her kin, her fallen comrades, women and occasionally men that she had battled side by side with, had performed tasks with, had led assaults with. Each time it happened she felt stripped bare to her core, judged and awaiting some form of punishment. She was openly trembling by the time she spotted the doorway, and made her way towards it, reaching up to push hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand.

The door was white, bright like a beacon in all of the dim grey that surrounded her. A symbol of hope, perhaps? She made her way towards it, still cautiously attempting not to touch any of the shapes, knowing full well the consequences of such actions from doing so earlier.

Eventually she stood in front of the door, her hand reaching out to rest on the handle, her shoulders sagging in relief as she let her forehead rest against the cool white surface. The pull was stronger now, whatever it was that pulled her was close. She was almost finished with this.

With a deep breath she opened the door and stepped inside.  

[Seussi]

What she stepped into was...nothing. White, nothing but white. It wasn't a bright white, not blinding in the way that the sun might shine into ones eyes, but it was blinding in that it was all she could see, and nothing more. The voices in her head were deafening, the whispers having her swivel her head as though the person behind them could be seen, though they were never there. There was nothing to feel, nothing to hold on to. Nothing to taste or smell. She was blind in every sense of the word. If it weren't for the pull she wouldn't have any idea what direction to even take.

Setting her shoulders, making sure to keep her breathing calm and even, she followed that pull, even as her golden eyes continued to flicker around the room, looking for something, anything, needing to be able to see[/].

This is my nightmare.

No. No things could always be worse, couldn't they?

This is where I will finally die.

The thoughts came unbidden, barely even distinguishable from the voices that continued to whisper and hiss. But she would not falter now, would not fear what she might become again. If this were to be where and how she would end, then that is how it was meant to be. Medea would not have sent her here by mistake. There was a purpose. She had a purpose.

She would meet that purpose soon, she was sure of it.  

[Seussi]

Roll 2  

[Seussi]

The call was so strong now but...it wasn't right. She stopped in her tracks, her head cocking to one side as she tried to concentrate on what she was feeling, on what she could hear, perhaps more with her gut or instinctively then with her ears. The call to come home was so insistent, so tempting, but should she continue to follow it? Would it provide the answers that she so desperately seeked? Maybe this was the true reason Medea had sent her on this mission. Not because she was of War and wielded strength and power, but because of her taint. Insanity calling to insanity. And at that moment she had to wonder just how much she was being used to meet the Head Priestesses on ends, her suspicion and paranoia born of the grey taint flaring inside of her.

If she didn't follow the pull, what would she find then? A cure, perhaps? A way to relieve herself of the voices and clear her features of grey? That is what she truly wanted.

And so she turned, and stepped in a different direction, away from the pull, pushing herself into all of that white that obscured everything from view. There was something out there, she could feel it, it was something that she needed.

Something brushed against her, and she knew then that she was not alone in that wall of white. A rustling sound filled the air as something light and airy swept along her back, sending shivers down her spine. "Who's there?" Her voice sounded hollow and distant to her own ears. Another sweep against her shoulder blades, the familiar sensation of feathers, almost caressing, guiding her, showing her the way.

+30 insanity? (not sure if insanity is given by rolling even this turn)  

[Seussi]

She had veered off of the path, not there had been a visible one to begin with, and had continued on this new course. The brush of fingers and feathers is what spurned her onward now, not some call from some supposed shard tainted with insanity. Occasionally she could have even sworn that she heard the faint rasp of a blade pulled from a sheath, or even feel the cold steel pressed against her flesh as she passed by. Inside the call to come home continued to lull her, and it was becoming almost comforting, almost familiar.

Eventually in front of her the fog began to clear, a small area that she stepped into and stopped, her gaze lowering to the ground where something dull lay with wispy tendrils of fog still spreading upwards from where it rested. Was that the shard that Medea had sent her to retrieve? It seemed likely, considering well....it was obviously a shard of something.

She stared down at the object for a moment, before raising her eyes and swiveling her head around, having a look at the small clearing that she stood in, and seeing nothing else of interest or consequence. The shard was all that there was. Well, the shard and the voices and the fog. She felt almost cheated now, however. She had been trying to find something else, something that would help her, and yet here she stood in front of the very thing that she had been sent to find. Not helpful. Not helpful at all.But still...that meant that she had done her job. She could grab the shard and find a way out of here.

She could always ask for Medea for answers, anyways.

Finally she took two steps forward and stooped down. As her hand drew nearer to the object, the voices became louder and louder, like white noise on a television set turned on to it's highest volume. She gritted her teeth against it, her hand hovering for a short moment above the shard before she finished the movement and closed her hand around it.

The whispers cut off, and then exploded in her mind in such a thunderous cacophony that she thought her ear drums were likely to burst. Home they screamed at her, home. She staggered back, the shard still clutched in one hand, as tendrils of fog lashed out at her, wrapping around her legs and holding her in place. Home, it continued on as the fog began to gather and rise. Another sound was added to those terrible shouted whispers, a loud screeching that she did not recognize as her own voice, her own screaming as the fog continued to claw it's way up her body, pulling her down, calling to her.

As she sunk to her knees the whispers began to quiet, the voices almost soothing, caressing her as she fell. Home. They wanted her to go home.

I am going to die here. was her final thought as she collapsed to the ground and let the fog consume her entirely. She had found the shard, but at what cost to herself?  

[Seussi]

She awoke on a hard surface, the ground, her eyes snapping open and almost glowing with eerie golden light for just the barest hint of a second. She felt nauseous as she pushed herself slowly up, knees drawing up to her chest and arms wrapping around them as she stared ahead at the fog that swirled in front of her. Still alive, then, and still in the place that Medea had sent her. But she felt...different now. Like a part of her had been irreversibly altered. She could feel that her hand still clutched at something, and she lifted it up, opening it to see....

The shard. She had still clung to it desperately even as the fog had carried her down and consumed her. But that was not what her eyes stared at now. No, it was the grey that tainted her hand. A solid span of grey that covered her hand completely and then worked it's way in swirls up her arm. She stared at this development with open horror, before frantically beginning to move, to stretch her legs out to turn her head and inspect the rest of her body. Her stomach, streaked with grey on the right side, her chest, collar bone, shoulder. Her leg, her foot...no, not just one but both. The nausea became so intense that she turned her head to retch, her hair falling around her face in a mass of blonde curls streaked with far too much grey.

Home

No. Nonononono! The voices! She squeezed her eyes shut and willed it to stop, willed herself to awaken from this nightmare.

But when they reopened things were just as they were. The voices were just the same. The grey that streaked her skin in places that had before been left untainted were still there.

"No..." She whispered, her voice hoarse and ragged, her throat sore from her earlier screams.

A flickering movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and her head turned towards it. The portal. She had awakened next to the portal. If she could just get out of here things would be okay. They would go back to normal once she was out of this place, just as they had before. A few streaks of grey and some quiet voices. Yes, that was manageable. But this? This was so much worse.

The chieftain rose unsteadily to her feet, her limbs trembling with each step that she forced herself to take. Soon she was standing at the portals edge, soon she was stepping through it.

Back into Medea's residence. Back to where the woman, the High Priestess herself, continued to sit.

"It---It is done." She rasped, her voice still as hoarse as before, her arm lifting, her hand turning palm up as she unfolded grey fingers to reveal the shard in her hand. Yes, still grey. It had not changed as she had thought it would.

"Why?" Her voice was strangled, on the verge of hysteria, when she asked the question. She assumed Medea knew what she was asking, the hand holding the shard beginning to tremble and quake until the shard was likely to fall out and onto the floor. The strong and proud horsewoman who had entered the portal earlier had come back changed in many ways, both physically and mentally.

Zoobey

done! wooooooo!