☆ // tell me what makes you feel so afraid

[fionnuisce]

WHO: Anyone going after Waver
WHERE: The Metaverse
WHEN: ~4/4
WHAT: I am thou, and thou art I-
WARNINGS: General CWs at the bottom of the main post and in specific subject lines when applicable.

[To those that knew him, maybe it wouldn't be a surprise that the eccentric and hotheaded professor had volunteered himself without a second thought.]

[To sacrifice for others was the duty of a knight.]

[To sacrifice others for oneself was the duty of a mage.]

[To sacrifice himself that others might not suffer was the duty of Waver Velvet.]

[Above, the night sky was a starless inky blue, the ambient glow of a night drawn on far too long and yet not yet nearing dawn. Where ordinarily the moon might hang in the sky was instead an endless void, a black hole that seemed to swirl in ways that caused one's eyes to ache merely to look upon it. Whatever lay within that distant vortex of blackness was wrong, in just about every imaginable way. If 'evil' had a specific aura, then it would have been whatever one felt when looking to that black false moon.]

[Yet the building below stood utterly heedless of this; a grand structure, or it had been once. Now it seemed as if it were slowly being reclaimed by time: plantlife left to run rampant crept along the walls with branches covered in thorns reaching along walls like climbing ivy, growing in through cracked windows and walls to the interior beyond. Thorny vines reach even as high as the massive looming tower, breaking through its walls and entangling the clock's shattered face in brambles colored by wilting red and gold petals.]

[Standing tall even in ruins is the Clock Tower, seat of the Mage Association, twisted into a reflection of a single broken heart.]

[Welcome to Comhartha Mionn.]

[general exploration - cw: tentacles, non-arachnid insects]
[floor 1 - cw: implied parental death]
[floor 2 - cw: none]
[floor 3 - cw: death, suicidal ideation]
[floor 4 - cw: none]

[miniboss encounter]
[bossfight]

[post-event]

Comments

ENTRANCE/EXPLORATION - cw tentacles, insects

[fionnuisce]

[Past the ornate front doors lies a grand and antiquated university in disrepair; empty and cold as the starless sky above, a thin layer of dust coating the floor. Small traces of a liquid silver substance can be seen by the particularly sharp-eyed--in cracks along the walls and floor, tiny puddles in dark corners.]

[The plant overgrowth continued in from outside, jagged branches seen here and there in a broken window or creeping through structural damage. Cracked walls lay open in places, exposing what appeared to be ticking clockwork acting as the building's skeletal frame.]

[Whispers of indistinct voices seemed to echo through the abandoned building as if from a great distance and yet very close; as quiet as a near-forgotten memory. And yet closer and far more real can be heard strange noises--the buzzing of insect wings, the shift and flow of something aquatic, and...did that shadow just move?]

[Traveling down the empty and broken halls, one may find the occasional doors to offices or lecture halls--many of them blocked by the overgrowth of thorns and wilting roses, some broken or splintered, and several with the sound of unclear and unfamiliar voices behind them.]

[As the group goes further and further in, the disrepair and damage becomes worse; parts of the walls and ceilings broken open to the void sky beyond, cracks in the biolding leaking silver liquid like blood that all seemed to flow in the same direction along the floor--likely towards the source of this whole problem.]

[ooc: This is the TL for general exploration/organization/initial game plans! Feel free to assume the dungeon Shadows wandering around are knife-throwing Assassins, bladed wing insect swarms, and jesus christ why. Depending on how the below threads flow I may toss in a couple minor encounters in NPC tags, but for this general stuff do whatever your heart desires!]

[makura]

Ghhk... what the hell is this? How come the vibes here are so atrocious?!

[ She's not WRONG but... well, anyway. Despite looking about as out of place as you could possibly imagine right now, Sei's here and she's geared up to help. She might hate fighting, but just leaving all this to somebody else is unthinkable.

Still, she's surprisingly helpful to have around. Looks like she wasn't bluffing about being something other than human – with some of her magic coming back, she's able to hold her own in a fight surprisingly well even if it's uh... unorthodox. There's a whole load of kicking and punching and... flipping?! And– ]

Hey! Didn't anybody teach you guys not to mess with knives? Somebody could get hurt – like you!

[ Picking up... knives to throw back at the Assassins... it's fine, she's a Knight Class, she takes neutral damage.

In a quiet moment of exploring, though, she'll sidle up to anyone who looks like they're in need of a little perking up and give them a smile – strained but sincere. ]

You need a little pick me up? Just say the word and Nagiko-san'll have you covered!

[doubledollar]

I could seriously use a pick-me-up, yeah.

[ hey, Sei. He probably shouldn't be diving into another palace after he'd escaped Takame's with a bunch of injuries, but. Never let it be said that the Humanoid Typhoon is a man who makes smart decisions.

He's still got some bullets left, at least, and he's mostly aiming at taking out the winged insects when they come near, using his large gun as a bludgeoning, crushing weapon instead of shooting at most of them.

He's visibly missing an arm--but don't worry, it's not bleeding. It's just a stump of mangled metal and some loose wires? Surprise, your bartender friend had a robot arm this whole time and it's currently missing. ]

I'm usually good at healing pretty quickly, but. Man, something about this place just has me feeling sluggish.
I'm not used to it.

You doing okay?

FLOOR 1

[fionnuisce]

[Down the first few halls, one of the doors lies unobstructed by the tangling vines and broken debris--it's even open, just slightly. From within, you can hear a voice sounding indistinct as though filtered through a hazy dream; a child's indignation, in a familiar accent.]

Why not-?!

[Investigate?]

[makura]

That sounds like... [ She knows that extremely specific regional accent anywhere!!! ] But no way it's that easy, right? ... Let's go check it out anyways!

[ OFF SHE GOES, INVESTIGATION TIME ]

[littlefury]

[Behind the door, a small classroom overtaken by dust and disrepair...and within it, indistinct and transparent figures. Two of them, one a woman with sharp gray eyes and long straight chestnut hair. The second, a young teenager with the same straight hair, albeit shorter and a darker shade.]

[Somehow, you know innately that this woman's name is Sylvia Velvet. And while you don't know this, it was not remotely hard to guess which parent the Professor would take after in twenty years or so.]

[She shook her head, speaking with the tired practice of an argument had many times before.]

I know you want to study magecraft, but the Association is nothing like you think. [She sighed, focusing on the defiant child before her.] It’s not the kind of place that suits people like us. People will look down on you and think you’re weak because of the quality of our family Crest, and nothing you accomplish will change their minds.

I don't care about any of that! [The child answered in a voice perhaps too familiar, layered with the frustration of someone convinced they were right without considering the consequences.] If I have a talent others don’t, it’s my responsibility to study and improve it as much as possible. Where else am I supposed to study except the Clock Tower? If they think I’m weak, I’ll prove them wrong no matter how long it takes or how hard I have to work.

[She frowned as she pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation--another familiar gesture--and took a slow breath and she appeared to be trying to decide whether this was an argument worth having today.]

[poisontippedcure]

[After Takame's dungeon, she's grateful for any sort of reprieve. That's not going to stop her from going after her other friend though. For a mercy, the dungeon starts calmer. Tentacles aside, of course.]

[When she reaches the first floor, she hears the voice. The door is calling to her, and she's doing everything she can to remain hidden as she listens in. Unfortunately, she's not very good at being secretive; her steps are heavy, and if the spectre looks, there's a shadow of two cat ears peeking out from the other side of the door.]

[littlefury]

[Fortunately, memory is simply memory--it influences the future, but does not acknowledge it. Once all that plays out in front of god, shounagon, a therapist, and everyone, well...do you stick around?]

FLOOR 2

[fionnuisce]

[Appearing from thin air as you traverse monster-laden halls, a transparent specter passed by in quick steps; a student looking a little too young for university. He wasn't, but there was something about his thin frame and small stature that made him look much younger than nineteen.]

[He rushed past with the air of one bordering on late to wherever he was going, eagerly rushing ahead and through an open door a little further down the hall.]

[femmecatale]

Woah, woah, woah, WAIT!

[Ann, now Panther, calls out after the specter as he passes by through the hallway.

Man, that kid looked familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on it yet.

And so, she followed him.]

[littlefury]

[𝆕 where it begins]

[The transparent specter took no notice, but the door he disappeared through laid unlocked and unobstructed. Pushing it open revealed a lecture hall; broken down and abandoned, with what little light remained from an uncertain source illuminating floating motes of dust in the air.]

[But it was not empty. The chairs that remained intact and standing held indistinct ghosts with the vaguest of features; figures that existed on the edges of memory and forgotten as any specific individuals. The only two in clear focus save for their ghostly transparency were Waver himself and the lecturer in dark blue at the broken and dusty podium in front of the class.]

[In dreams, occasionally one simply knows things through an odd intuition--in this way you know this person's name. Kayneth Archibald, Lord El-Melloi. Not 'the first'; there have been many before him. A dignified bloodline in which the head bears that prestigious title.]

In the world of mages, a long and distinguished lineage is everything. Nothing else matters. [The lecturer's voice is the absolure epitome of condescension, as though he finds himself having to explain two plus two in simple words.] This is because magic will not yield up her secrets in a single generation. A parent passes on the fruits of a lifetime of magical training to his child. Thus, the older the family of mages, the greater their power ultimately becomes. You are no doubt wondering why I begin today's lecture with something so basic. It is because a student from this class submitted a fascinating paper to me yesterday.

[He held up a small stack of paper--about the thickness of an average undergraduate's thesis.]

[A few rows back, Waver blinked in a look of uncertainty. The kind of uncertainty of someone who had no idea that an obvious and cataclysmic disaster was bearing down on him with the speed and force of a truck.]

[Where was he about to go with this...?]

FLOOR 3 - [eventual cw: death, suicidal ideation]

[fionnuisce]

[As the group traveled further, the brambles and structural damage began to look more intense; branches covered with wicked thorns, wilting flowers shedding petals of red and gold into the silver liquid that trickled like blood to the floor. Strangely, no matter how far downstairs they go, the building defies all logic by always having a ceiling that breaks open in places to a view of the starless sky and nothing more.]

[Distantly, disembodied, as no more than a faint echo with no clear source--a young man's resolute voice intoned an arcane ritual.]

Heed my words-
My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny.
If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer.
I hereby swear.
I shall be all the good in the world. I shall defeat all evil in the world.

[The voice faded out as if lost on the stagnant air somehow...but as you proceed further, there may be the sound of an extra couple sets of footsteps.]

[notevensorey]

[As Sorey proceeds through this dark, twisted place, he pauses to listen to the voice for a moment. His lips form a grim line as he begins walking again. It's only after a few seconds that he hears the sound of extra footsteps and stops in his tracks. The brunet turns, looking behind him to see if he can identify the source with a hand on the hilt of his ceremonial sword.]

Hello? I know you're here.

[Maybe it's a mistake to call out, but he's damned if he does and damned if he doesn't.]

[littlefury]

[𝆕 ever-present feeling]

[As casually as though they were merely passing by on a city street, a pair of translucent memories passed by Sorey and whoever else may have come with him. Waver walked a few steps behind--exhausted, eyes downcast, everything about him just seemed tired and with the weight of all the world on his shoulders.]

[Just ahead of him, a notably taller man in simple dark clothes with a deep green scarf loose around his shoulders. Normal though he looked on a first glance, there was something strange about him. He almost resembled the Unseelie King in presence; something radiating otherworldly power and beauty beyond all mortal comprehension, carrying himself with the pride of a valiant warrior. Despite all that...there was nothing dangerous about him right now. Dark hair swept back out of his ethereally perfect face, golden eyes behind a pair of very familiar sunglasses, he simply walked just ahead of the teenager following behind.]

[Sei Shounagon knows who this legendary hero is. But as that strange fog of awareness and sentiment settle, the rest know only that he has a name unknown to the mage who follows behind him. For now, his only name is-]

I can't do this, Lancer.

[The memory of Waver stopped walking, raising his head to the knight who paused and half-turned back to his Master. Tilting his head in confusion and concern, he waited for an elaboration, which came in a rush in despondent and desperate tones.]

I thought this war would be between familiars, but you...You actually listen to me, you keep encouraging and praising me even when I screw up, and I can't just let you face someone like Gilgamesh knowing it's a losing battle. If I die in this war, then...fine. Living and dying like something worthless is probably what I deserve, but I never wanted to drag anyone else down with me. Least of all someone like you.

[Lancer frowned almost imperceptibly as those too-familiar sunglasses were resettled on his head, turning fully and approaching his Master in careful steps as he seemed to be forming a response.]

FLOOR 4

[fionnuisce]

[From the sheer disrepair the floors appear to be in, you can infer you're getting closer. The wilted roses and thorny branches have utterly overtaken the building, seeming more and more like the cause of the damage than overgrowth after the fact.]

[A broken door precariously hanging off its hinges and entangled in branches leaves the doorway open to the room beyond--from which the echoing memory of a younger Waver's voice can be heard indistinctly, paired beside the voice of an unfamiliar woman.]

[The room within seems harmless; no more than three memory specters sitting around a table in some kind of heavy discussion.]

[Approach?]

[doubledollar]

[ Approaching was the only option he saw, here. He isn't going to turn back, not after how far he's come here, either. No matter how unsettling the air is, no matter how the view of dead and decaying plant matter set off his stomach like it was filled with rocks.

He's still confident in his abilities, one arm or no, and he's going to carefully press forward. Past that door that's barely hanging onto its hinges, and inside the room where he can hear some pair of voices in debate.

He doesn't recognise one, but the other he's... not certain he's familiar with. It's male, that's all he can tell--but was it the professor?

He doesn't know, and he's got his pistol drawn and settled at his side anyhow, creeping quiet as he can as he comes in far enough to see that table, and its flickering imagery of three people sitting around the table.

He's going to move into the room as far as he can, so he can hear what they're saying, but attempting to stay as low and as hidden as he can. His choice in dark clothing today will at least hopefully aid in that.]

[littlefury]

[𝆕 silver moon]

[Luckily, none of them seem quite real enough to notice any other presence.]

The ambient glow from the nothingness of the sky overhead lighted broken windows, casting a strange glow on the transparent figures within. One, a young woman as ethereal and pale as a porcelain doll, brow furrowed and scarley eyes distant as she was lost in deep thought. The second, a sharp and severe figure who seemed statuesque in her own way; more like a cannon primed to shoot than a porcelain figure.]

[Irisviel von Einzbern, a living vessel for a magical artifact. Maiya Hisau, a mercenary in service to Irisviel's now departed husband.]

[Maiya's steely eyes were narrowed harshly at the third of their number: Waver himself. Younger--too young to look nearly as battle-worn as he did. He was exhausted, stained with ash and blood and looking as though he had literally just walked through hell and come out on the other side. Which makes it easy to infer that some great and terrible cataclysm ended only a matter of hours ago, if even that long.]

If-...will you come back here, if you're able to? [Waver spoke slowly, in the tone of one gradually forming an idea in his mind and following as it took shape.]

I think so. [Irisviel answered after exchanging a brief look with Maiya; uncertainty over his reasoning as well as the future ahead. Turning her head to regard Waver with a look as though she was examining something beyond the comprehension of a narrow worldview, she followed:] For a short time, at the absolute least...but why?

MINIBOSS

[fionnuisce]

[Deep in the labyrinth, the walls lay crumbled and broken to the endless night outside, ambient light with no real source only enough to light the surroundings in a dismal and pale glow. It glinted off of the occasional silver puddle on the floor, from liquid mercury running along damaged and scorched plant-ridden walls like blood from a wound.]

[It felt like disaster ravaged this place, and given all that had played out here, was that any surprise?]

[At the end of the hall laid a set of wooden double doors, blocked by a massive tangle of thorned vines covered in wilting red and yellow roses. At the center where the thorns gathered into a single spot was a glowing crimson sigil functioning as a seal upon the door itself.]

[Door's locked. And strangely, the pressure of an enemy Shadow fills the air; stronger than the creatures scattered about up to now, but not powerful enough to be the source of this whole labyrinth.]

[ miniboss start ]

[doubledollar]

[ this palace has been... a lot. The monsters in the beginning had been annoying, but not too much to overcome, compared to other fights he's had.
What was a heavier toll in his head was seeing everything else--the fraught imagery of death and turmoil, the tragedy that was the life of a young Waver Velvet that made him into the somewhat sour, distant man he was today.

It had all come to here, this place deep down in the maze of walls and broken scenery rough with overgrowth and rot, all at the same time. The smell of dead and decaying plant life was affront to Vash's senses, and had he an extra arm, he'd be holding one over his nose right now. Instead, he holds his gun steady at his side, finger off the trigger as he turns to face those he's come down with.

An unsteady breath leaving his throat as he gestures to the set of doubledoors, that ominous sigil on the door, glowing crimson like freshly spilt blood.

There was a shudder in the air, and it made the hairs along the back of Vash's neck tingle. ]

Something's coming.

[ the humanoid typhoon mutters quietly, but with purpose--to make sure his companions are alert. ready, for whatever was about to come. ]

And it's bigger than the ones we met before.
Don't let your guard down.

1/2

[littlefury]

[That sensation is a crystal clear danger; like mice before a falcon, the air alone screams danger and death in his very presence. Something powerful beyond human reckoning, or...the memory of that which was. And like every phantom before it, this one is as ethereal and transparent as a fleeting dream...but different from everything else born from the heart of this palace, this ghostly memory is twisted by the dark aura radiating off of it as it rapidly coalesces and becomes something more tangible; a single figure, standing in opposition to the group and blocking the path to a barricaded and seal-marked door.]

ENCOUNTER - WE CALL HIM HEARTLESS

[fionnuisce]

[With the Shadow dissolving into nothing, the sigil on the door seems to intensify with a bright glow...and then fade, one piece at a time until all three sections are gone. The branches blocking the door wither and crumble like ash, falling to pieces and leaving the path ahead clear.]

[Past the door, you can hear two voices arguing--...or are they both the same voice?]

[doubledollar]

[ it's certainly a sight to see. The image of that spear-wielding man with his hand over his chest, admitting a sound and honorable defeat. Honestly, it's the best kind of ending for Vash, personally--shadow or not, he would always hold back on taking a final shot on anything that looked even vaguely human.
Always one to opt for defeat without death--he lets out a sigh of relief when the shadow fades into nothing.

Then comes the rumbling. The way the floor creaked and strained as those giant, curling tendrils of ages-old rosebranches start to fall apart, cracking and whithering like they were going through sudden petrification. The angry, red lines on the door becoming so bright it's nearly blinding, then fading, into nothing.

One.
Two, and then three.

By the time they're little more than ashy burnmarks in the door, the rotting flora has cleared away as well, like dust in the wind.

Holstering his gun, Vash takes a deep, quiet breath. Looking at those who'd arrived in the depths of Waver's personal hell alongside him, he places a hand on the back of his neck, to relieve the tension there. ]

...right through that door.
The end of all of this is back there.

Priority is getting the Professor out of there. Don't kill whatever else is inside, no matter what you do.

[ a nod to confirm with his companions, and vash will place his hand on one door, waiting for someone to help him force the other open so they can go inside. ]

POST-EVENT

[fionnuisce]

[Even after everything here is resolved, the broken university lingers. Devoid of monsters, absent of Shadows, it exists as a silent and shattered monument reflecting the one who unwittingly created it.]

[Perhaps, if one looks close enough, they can still find those memories playing out--faded and quieter, lacking in the same dizzying intensity, but no less present as a permanent fixture in that person's cognition.]

[Or perhaps...it's all just very quiet, beneath a black moon and dark sky now harboring a single, distant star.]

[poisontippedcure]

[At some point after it's all over, Rose finds Waver. When she does, she takes a seat next to him. There are certain things she's held back on saying for necessity, but at some point, she knows that the conversation needs to happen. For her, at least.]

You know, for someone so smart, you're remarkably stupid.

[Ah yes, classic Rose.]

couple weeks after

[hoshikiri]

[Reflection and Closure. Takame thought going through his personal hell that stayed accessible through this "MetaVerse" would help him find both. Help him process his emotions that came with it.

He identified them, but that was all. He assumed all threats were gone, at least all major ones.

But before he went into Undertown, into his "Castellum Mortua" his curiosity led him to Kaisou University. Where Waver was said to have been taken before.

It was there that he looked up at the spire that signified his Comhartha Mionn. Humming to himself with a furrowed brow as he debated entering without his friend's consent.]