What You Take With You part II: Reflections In The Fog

[unpocoloco]

Who: All those on the What You Take With You mission and everyone else (who OOCly wishes to join in)
What: An important artifact is brought back only to immedaitely activate. Further details are here.
When: November 10th
Where: Daybreak Campus and around Soliel
Warning: Warn in headers as appropriate

On November 10th the recovery team sent into the Outlands makes their return with the obsidian mirror. Thus far it hasn't seemed any different than any other obsidian mirror, nothing spectacular about it beyond its age and where it came from. But Daybreak was only called to retrieve it, not anything more. The spell is worked to open the path between the Outlands and Daybreak, allowing them back. But as this happens, the mists rise up as they often do when the two worlds intersect. The team might even see it ghosting over the mirror before catching their own reflections in it. A light flashes over its surface and in that instant, the mirror activates.

Just one look in any reflective surface throughout Soliel-- a mirror, a window, a bit still water-- and people will be struck with sudden dizziness, a feeling of being knocked back, and then darkness. You'll find, on waking, a dark and desolate landscape full of smoke and fog. It'll be hard to tell where one is going. You won't be alone. People all over the academy have been brought into this vision. You may run into them, but even more likely, you'll run into the spots of color that cut through the fog.

And dwelling with this color? Why it's you. But better. Or maybe, much, much worse. It seems the mirror has something to show you. But is that something a promise? Or a threat...? Learn its lesson and you may escape both the shadowy realm and a terrible fate in your future. What image will you leave on the world?

Comments

[spelleton]

[ He's been in enough tight spots and played enough horror games to know where this sort of thing is headed.

Still, he continues on. He doesn't touch the cable; he simply walks alongside it as best he can, following it into the darkness to an unknown destination. ]

[nor_iron_bars]

[It's hard to say how long he walks, exactly- distance is odd here, there's something not quite right about the whole space.]

[But as he goes forward, the cable is gradually joined by another, and another, and still more, all of them heading in the same direction. Silently, almost imperceptibly, the soft hum of working machinery begins to come into focus.]

[Eventually, he'll come to the point where they all meet.]

[Three tall pillars, all smooth metal and glass, the cables winding into gaps in their surface. It doesn't seem any less inscrutable than the rest of it...]

[Unless he looks up.]

[At the top of the center pillar, the tallest one, is the figure of a human head and shoulders. From about an inch below the collarbone on down, there's only the metal and wires of the pillar, utterly inorganic- and then, above, the abrupt transition to human flesh, perfectly unmarked and preserved.]

[The other two pillars are slightly lower, one to each side, and the figure's arms are spread so that one hand rests gently on each of them. Long, pale hair has been brushed out to flow smoothly down the back, framed by more wires trailing off into the darkness. The eyes are closed and it is all utterly still.]

[Perhaps it's some kind of clever mannequin, or exquisitely-made statue, because although it looks perfectly lifelike, there's no life to be sensed here at all.]

[Still, it does look shockingly realistic. It's completely unadorned, except for the bracelets at the wrists.]

[No. Not bracelets.]

[Shackles.]

[The face may or may not be entirely familiar. Certainly, he's well-acquainted with the upper half of it, but the lower... well.]

[It's been a long time since anyone saw Jailbreak without her mask.]

[spelleton]

[ Well. That's not good.

That's about all he can say about that. It's clear that whatever has happened, it's something beyond his skill to separate or repair.

If it truly does need repair. If this isn't just how things are, here, in this strange, foggy space.

Shackles again. Why is it always shackles? He himself wears chains, a symbol of restraint and a reminder of the weight of his responsibilities, but shackles are becoming more and more uncomfortable to see lately. ]

What is this...?

[ He approaches, cautiously. Not touching. He's certain, from the awareness he'd felt, he doesn't even need to come close to touching for her to be aware of him. ]

[nor_iron_bars]

[There's no movement, no sign of life from the bound remains, but the background hum of machinery is joined by the quiet whisper of voices. It sounds like a radio skipping from station to station too quickly to catch more than a passing word or phrase, everything blurring together until it's just meaningless noise, like static on a dead channel.]

[It sounds like it's coming from everywhere at once, faint and sourceless, but slowly more recognizable words crop up in the din.]

...something that shouldn't fucking exist.

[The words are in Maverick's voice.]

[It doesn't sound like him replying, more like a snippet of a recording, just a couple seconds cut out of a larger conversation.]

Hello- [Desidera's voice, this time.] -I am- [Puella's voice.] -that- [Arthur Bell's.] -I am. [Hector.]

[Ky Kiske:] ...yes, that is I- [Gunvolt:] And just who's asking?

[spelleton]

[ He doesn't feel like giving his name to whatever this is would be the best idea. The voices set him on edge only slightly, but that's because he's already been wary for some time now and the difference is negligible. ]

A friend of yours.

Are you still yourself, Jailbreak?

[ Jailbreak is fiercely individual. To see anything about her reduced to something dependent on the voices of others, on outside components, is a strange and unsettling feeling. ]

[nor_iron_bars]

[It's hard to tell whether she's still herself, one way or another- but the entity does definitely react to hearing that name, the volume of the background babble of incoherent voices spiking briefly before quieting back down to a murmuring hiss, faster-paced and almost feverish.]

[Akechi's voice, this time, but it skips repeatedly and warps in odd ways. It's as if the recording is degrading, or being toyed with deliberately to produce different effects:]

What do you want? What do you- you- you-

What do you want? What do you want?

[The whispering reaches a peak- and then all other noise suddenly cuts off, and there's only one voice speaking. It's Ekkehardt's own.]

How can I be of service?

[There's an undercurrent to it, something in the words that shouldn't be there. This is not a safe question.]

[spelleton]

[ What does he want? He'd followed an impulse, a curiosity. Is there a safe answer? Is the trick not to answer at all? ]

I don't require anything of you.

[ She borrows other's voices, and seems to have none of her own. Whatever that entailed, it surely doesn't mean anything good. ]

I'm curious, of course. About how you came to be this way. But that's your choice to answer.

[nor_iron_bars]

[There's something odd about the voices, now- more than the strangeness of situation as a whole. It's getting harder to pick out which voice belongs to which person, who said what- they're all beginning to blend together, multiple voices speaking at once, indistinguishable.]

I- lost-

caught- in the dark-

the world is- gone