prismatic fragments

multifandom rp blog, by charri

[mortalistella]

@bomnotz (fafnir.)

adventurers really do get the worst jobs, don't they. things people don't want to do themselves, they pawn off to adventurers--and that includes the dirty business of killing monsters in the area, whether to seize their treasures or to cut their bodies up for materials or just because they're a nuisance. dragons have the unfortunate reputation of being treasure-hoarders with skin as tough as steel and a habit of clearing entire farms of their herds, making them prime targets for elimination.

well, not that light's been on many of those dragon-slaying bills. only just heard about them in passing, like stories about labyrinths underneath caves or castles under the ocean. not fantasies, but certainly unreachable adventures. their party today, though--assigned by the guild, based on rank and location--are a sage, a landsknecht, and a hunter. they haven't gotten along much... despite two days of travel, they've hardly shared a word with each other.

the mountain climb is the worst part of the endeavor, though. while their flying-cloud spell can carry one person with ease for a few minutes, carrying four people plus the weight of their baggage is far too unwieldy, and they end up nearly crashing into the side of the mountain. "are you trying to get us killed?!" one says; "i thought you were a graduate?" says another.

"i am, but--" light begins to protest, but they wouldn't hear it, leaving light far behind as the perch to the dragon's nest loomed. i could turn around now and they wouldn't even know, light thinks, but shakes the thought from their head and runs to keep up.

but their party is nowhere to be found. within the dark of the cave, only the reflected light of the outside sun etches outlines on objects in the murk, and their companions' attire aren't among them. "--everyone? where are you?"

how... where would they have vanished to?

light finds their answer with a rumbling sound behind them, and a puff of warm air.

...i'm not making it out of this cave alive.

"n...nice dragon. hi. please... don't... eat me..."

[upboundline]

"I'm a certified expert, you know." He wouldn't lie! Well, maybe just a little bit. When it's more fun that way. But he can absolutely be cited in her essay as a trustworthy source in realm studies.

Not that his own homework is any closer to being done. He just doesn't like medical classes, going through all the different ways one can puncture and repair organs is more gross than anything. Hence why he's bothering Elle.

"Ramona's schedule is.. ehm..." He does some quick mental calculations. "If we're snappy, we probably can get out and Ramona will have a while before she notices. Let's go." Not like he takes convincing. Sylvester sweeps his papers haphazardly into his bag, shoulders it, and waits for Eleanor to follow him. He's used to skittering out the back ways -- don't call him a problem child, please.

[mortalistella]

"Hmmm..." Sure, we can go with that... She has seen him throw up entire living fish before, so she supposes that makes someone an expert in Aequor as much as anyone. She visibly perks up as Syl takes the bait- yes, a partner in crime! She'll leave her things where they are, but snag her coat and purse before they sprint out the back way, only chocolate on her brain.

Once off of Mythag's campus, it's a bit of a jog to Main Street, then East, then Alder, taking an alleyway shortcut through to Stratford. It's faster than a cab--so Eleanor claims--but there's something... wrong about this layout. She might not be the best at directions, but a skill she's certainly had to develop is the ability to route where she's been and where she's going in her mind's-eye, as though reading a map from above... But this map is all over the place.

Surely it's her fault... "I'm sorry, this should have taken us to Stratford, but... it keeps on... I've been this way before, so I don't understand..." Eleanor palms her Silver Key, running her gloved fingers over its metal nervously; the metal has been polished in spots where she's done this before. "...Nobody is answering me. Syl, can you get through to your Awakeners? To Mythag?"

[mortalistella]

@upboundline (sylvester.)

"Hmm... That doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about Aequor to argue." Eleanor puts her head down on her homework, only half-finished with the deadline looming large in front of her. Ugh... "...I don't want to do this anymore. Let's make a break for it--Ramona doesn't need to know. There's a new chocolatier on Stratford we should visit."

[mortalistella]

im BACK

[mortalistella]

CHAWWI 🥺💗✨

TSUN!!!!! WELCOME TO MY WIP BLOG I HOPE U LIKE IT HERE

[upboundline]

@artorily -> edel

a chasm yawns beneath their feet as sylvester and edel gaze down past the basement trapdoor unfortunately(?) uncovered. sylvester sighs. "well, we should be okay to investigate it on our own. we've material enough to call up awakeners if we need."

this is a fairly secure area with very little dissolution reported around, so it shouldn't be anything too ridiculous beneath. unless sylvester's questionable luck rears its head, but let's not think about that. "it doesn't smell like anything's dead down there and i don't feel anything spiritually. nothing ventured, nothing gained, i suppose." shouldering his pack of equipment, sylvester takes the vanguard and patters down steep stairs. the shadows seem almost tangible as they rise up to engulf him like the tide.

even the flashlight he clicks on when he reaches the bottom seems like it can't push them as far back as it should be able to, but some light is better than none. "it's safe. you can come down." it's safe, but eerily silent. his words hardly echo i the hallways revealed by the flashlight, a series of stone hallways branching off into labyrinthine corridors of winding turns and irregular wooden doors.

[mortalistella]

Wow, that sure is deep. Edel's wings ruffle at the sight. There could be anything down there... « Do we have to? » Edel signs, looking at Syl pleadingly. « You know better than to say that. » Surely, they could get William to come look at it instead. ...No, no, it's a junior's job to do that, isn't it... They follow behind Syl, carefully descending lest either of them take a tumble, and better the one with wings than without.

The shadows reach, but the descent is otherwise unremarkable. A natural cave, it appears, though by what force the cave was hewn from, Edel can't say. As Sylvester casts a flashlight, Edel draws a long, thick stick with cloth attached to its head from their pack, and with the flick of a tinderbox sets it aflame with a ghostly violet glow. The salts within, so Doll said, are meant to reveal signs hidden to the naked eye--though whether either of them should look is another question. The torch illuminates footprints on the floor, which react to the light with their own glow, as well as handprints along the walls, though the proportions seem... off, somehow. Stretched, or squashed, in a way.

Edel glances back at Syl to check his constitution. Not sick and pale, not suddenly spacey, good to continue. They fold their wings close to their body and let the torch lead them forward.

After a moment, they pause again, and hold the torch up to the wall. It's difficult to see, but... the chips in the wall, don't they seem deliberate? Edel squints. It seems like it should form a part of a bigger pattern--a piece of art, maybe? But why would that be down here? Wasn't it just supposed to be one crazed monk's hiding place?

...Hang on. « Did either of us... mark the entrance? I don't think I remembered to. »