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Entry tags:
for whom weeps the storm her tears on our skin
WHO: Takame and those who went after him
WHERE: The MetaVerse - Castellum Mortua
WHEN: Beginning 4/4
WHAT: A rescue party for Takame trapped in his dungeon
WARNINGS: Massive spoilers for Shadowbringers and Endwalker, combat heaviness, allusions to human experimentation, suicide ideation, child abuse, debilitating injury, self harm, light body horror, ptsd, severe paranoia, death, blood, light gore and a hell of a lot of violence.
Castellum Mortua - Entry
cw: allusions to human experimentation, suicide ideation
"Nos summus manus, Nos sumus deus. We are the Hand, We are the God."
♪ - Alienus
Such was the declaration heard upon entering the Spirit Realm that held Takame. Nonsense words for the uninitiated. That is, if they weren’t coming from Takame’s voice. The motto of the nation of Garlemald uttered with a pride never displayed before.
The inside of the dungeon was a seemingly endless path with yet more corridors and faceless automatons passing between them. On occasion they would salute one another, every five passers by as if on routine. Every step taken would echo against the steel blue floor and walls painted with the ivory standard over what was once one the color of a sprawling field.
Barriers that would otherwise prevent a fall into the Spiritual Abyss were left with scratches from an incredibly potent blade and burns that only had the memory of warmth to the touch. Signs of combat long passed.
There were options to proceed. The soldiers along the path before you were no more than cannon fodder, sheeps to the slaughter.
Nothing is even a challenge to break anymore.
Your thought? Or the voice?
The combat capable with incredible stamina could fight their way forward. For a while they would seem to keep coming without end. From capsules lining the walls of each corridor, smoke is released and unspeakably horrific creatures emerge and add to the numbers. Not far from the capsules, there are people in chains without faces, many protesting and falling to their knees and begging to not be put "there". Try as you may, you cannot save them from being forced into the capsules, drained of every shred of life right before your eyes and joining the many numbers of monsters and soldiers assaulting you.
It wouldn’t take too long before you overwhelm them and move on. But that also risks you running out of steam before the race even began.
Or maybe the rush of battle will empower you?
Give me something to live for. Give me the only purpose I have. I'd rather be dead without it.
(OOC Note: As you proceed in this log, fighting will buff you where avoiding fights will make you more exhausted. No abilities will be disabled, but they will be much less potent. Not only that, Shadow Takame will react to you differently depending on how much you've fought throughout the log, be it with more respect or hostility. Keep this in mind as you go on!)
Castellum Mortua - Vents
cw: depictions of child abuse both emotional and physical
♪ - Fakery Way
The keen eyed, or considerate of the non-combat capable, may look to their flanks where boxes of supplies are stacked on top of each other. Something is on the ground next to them, charged with aether. A Gunblade cartridge.
Could it have been left behind by Takame?
The boxes are climbable, and looking up there is an accessible vent that connects… somewhere. Large enough to fit a few people as the facility seems to be fairly sizeable. If one wanted to take a stealthy route, they could climb through the vents.
But the further along they go, they’ll feel a sense of apprehension. Of agitation.
"Van, for a Legatus." A young boy's voice recited. "Tol, Tribunus laticlavius. Sas... Tribunus angusticlavius or P... puruaefectus casutro--""
A striking sound cut him off.
"Your pronunciation is off again. We've been over this. Again." An older voice reprimanded.
"... Yes, father. I'm sorry father."
"Be correct, not sorry."
"... Yes, father. Sas, Tribunus angusticlavius or Praefectus castrorum. Rem, Primus..."
The vents will become hot to the touch to an unbearable degree like you're stepping on hot coals barefoot. The sense that you chose the wrong path will form deep in your heart even though logically, this path was sound.
Until multiple explosions go off after you make it.
And again, the voice will be heard upon exit and you'll feel like your motivation is being sapped away.
To fight is to be strong. To be strong is to live. To be weak is to be subjugated, then annihilated. Prolong it if you wish, the end is inevitable.
The Far Edge of Fate - Rush
cw: allusions to partial immolation
♪ - splash
No matter the route you take to go outside, you’ll find yourself still on a steeled bridge. But now steps between the paths taken have broken. Cracks form in the steel, dents that a feather’s worth of weight will cause to collapse, entire portions of the railings melted down or otherwise gone.
Where have the pieces gone? Floating in a dark, empty space that "outside" was. Where nebulous clouds and starless skies are all that’s visible if you look up. The deep purples and blues all around make visibility difficult aside from the occasional out of place pillar of light.
Though it would be more accurate to call it a failing lantern on its last legs before the flame fades.
Warrior of Light. Our Weapon of Light. I must fulfill my best use as such, I will never be human.
Looking back revealed the halls you just came from were now engulfed in flames. Combat was inevitable here. Unless you attempt to outrun the barrage of wyverns, bits and blackbirds that are coming at you from the sky, only to barely reach the end of your path, hopping along broken bridges, asteroids and debris and outrunning the falling ceruleum tanks exploding overhead.
"Leave him, he's nothing to us. If he can't be saved he can't be saved. There'll be more like him." An authoritative voice, somehow audible over the explosions.
"Commander, we can repair his...! He won't have feeling in it but please if we act now...!" The older voice from earlier.
"Throw him in the infirmary, then I want you find the savages that planted the explosives. That's an order!"
Run and run and run further away. If you don't the flames will catch up to you. No, in the end they will anyway. Run through the flames and you'll feel them ruin your body, scream in agony until you can't feel it anymore despite them leaving no trace on your body.
The Far Edge of Fate - Clash
cw: self harm, undetailed body horror
♪ - Ultima
At the edge of the straight path you'll find that a massive dark abomination, like something out of a nightmare, blocks it and will eliminate you if you don’t kill it.
There's a sound that came from it, a mechanical whirring that resembled a whimper. A thrumming like an unsteadily beating open heart connected by wire and aether.
The observant will note weaknesses in its frame. Its hands have digits missing, across its chest is a wide slash much like those at the entrance and electrical sparks went off around it. Whatever was once there won't be a problem for you.
"It could have been me. If the wheel of fate had turned differently, that could have been me activating Oversoul instead of..."
A loud swear in Hingan, or Japanese, followed by a slam, then the cracking of bone.
"Takame...!"
"I am fine. I am fine, Alphinaud. ... He saved you. I owe him."
The problem is, if the way you took was forward then there is no retreat. Your path behind you is gone, scattered to the depths of space. The arena you have to fight this monster is small. And the more you linger in fighting it, the more its overwhelming power closes the area in around you, surrounding the edges with magic that cuts through your skin, causing bleeding or burning that refuses to heal.
With all these factors at play, it could very much be your end long before you ever see Takame again.
Is there a way past it? To escape from this unwinnable battle? There was a space in the circle of fire where it was weak. And it led forward. Will you fight, riding the high of battle? Or will you flee and let it wither away?
The Sight of Sacrifice - Hollow
cw: ptsd, paranoia, death, undetailed gore
♪ - ridicule
If your preference is to try and run past it, you will be forcibly separated from the others. Where there is no combat there is deafening silence. Listlessness that will permeate your very soul. Emptiness as far as the eyes can see with no sign of your friends and slowly dampening motivation as your reasoning for being here in the first place leaves your mind.
The silence consumes your mind, entering it like water getting into your lungs. The more you struggle to swim away from the current of loss the harder it became to breathe. You are not supposed to be here, you had to be fighting. You chose wrong again. You made a mistake again.
You're being punished for it.
You have to be fighting. If you aren't you ought to be dead, you are about as useful as a corpse at that point.
The voice will also become more persistent.
Staying around long enough may get you a glimpse of a familiar horned figure. But something isn’t quite right.
What are my orders?
What have I done?
What are my orders
What are my orders
What are my orders
Why am I
Who
Tsurugi. Tsurugi. A blade. A blade. The Warrior of Light. The Warrior of Light.
Tread with caution. As you try to find the voice… or even remember yourself, the horned figure will be hovering over you, blade drawn and ready to strike if you don’t have help or defend.
He will disappear in a flash once spotted, but save for the silhouette, the most noticeable feature would be his glowing yellow eyes.
In the blackest darkness memories seem to fade more and more. In the winding dirt and shade the scent of blood is all you know and the rotted remains of corpses are everywhere you step. Most without faces, be they hidden or disfigured, some with clear expressions.
With signs of regret, fear, rage, agony. Even smiles that it only clawed at your consciousness to see. In your ears there are more voices and flies buzzing around the bodies despite you knowing there are none here.
"TRAITOR...! TRAITOR TO YOUR COUNTRY! A POX UPON YOUR NAME!"
"He's a monster...! A MONSTER...!"
"A smile better suits..."
"We did everything right... and still... STILL IT CAME TO THIS!"
"You... are... death."
But if you lose yourself. Find yourself alone on all fronts. Look to the light of the crystal. That which marks the Travelers sigil.
Something else known to be in Takame’s possession. The sight of the crystal will reignite your sense of purpose and reason and fill you with the determination to complete your quest.
It will guide you back to yourself. Will it bring you back to your friends? Will you find it before you forget everything you are? Or will death find you first?
The Sight of Sacrifice - Finality
cw: potentially intense violence
It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’ve told nothing but lies to weaklings who will perish in an instant.
I will never be human. I will never be truly capable of feeling, of thinking.
I will never be a man, only a war machine. I will never be a hero, only a failure whose actions bring more death.
I will never be worthy of his love.
I will never
be Takame Kesi.
Past the large enemy, or the sea of your own self doubt, you will reach the end. The end of what?
Everything.
♪ - the executioner
Just a void that seems to stretch into an eternal dark sky. At the end of it a figure stands. Clad in white, red and gold, a heavy cape with a high collar and a pervasive sensation of the void radiating from his person.
A turn of his head revealed it to be Takame, but not quite.
His hair was cut short, but there was no mistaking those scales and horns. His other most prominent feature, his green-teal eyes, were glowing yellow and on his face, his expression varied.
A twisted smirk if you went through every combat zone.
A disappointed, condescending pout if you did not. Regardless of his look, he greeted you thusly.
"Ah, ‘twould seem you’ve made your way to me. I’ve been waiting for so long that I almost broke this one." Stepping off to the side to gesture at the “one” in question, the real Takame laid. Bloodied and beaten on the ground, still breathing and conscious but no more than that. The armor he’d come in with was torn apart, his Gunblade thrown far behind him and his long hair matted and partially ripped out in the fake Takame’s hand.
Even still he managed some defiance.
"Do not… touch them…!" To which the Shadow responded with a kick that made him spit more blood.
"Will you stop me, Kesi? You who forgot our actions, who thought acting as if you were a person would erase how we helped crush Doma under our heel?" He turned to you.
"Who felt the most SATISFACTION in our battles with Zenos viator Galvus than any single event in our lives?!" He laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Takame didn’t, couldn’t, say anything. Either from his injuries or the fact that it was just… true.
"Even this foolish lot. Who are they to me but rats I can kill with a thought? 'Saviors'? You can’t save a machine that is long dead inside, waiting for a decent bout to be my resuscitation. "
(OOC Note: Shadow Takame will be NPC'd by me. Threadjacking within reason is still welcomed in it as are separate TL's, but when your characters get to this point this is where the paths taken throughout the dungeon will come into play. While he could potentially be talked down by certain people it is very possible for that your character will get hurt especially if they're not combat savvy. The extent of the injury is up to your discretion/comfort level.
Shadow Takame will not attack Yusuke Kitagawa directly under any circumstances.)
WHERE: The MetaVerse - Castellum Mortua
WHEN: Beginning 4/4
WHAT: A rescue party for Takame trapped in his dungeon
WARNINGS: Massive spoilers for Shadowbringers and Endwalker, combat heaviness, allusions to human experimentation, suicide ideation, child abuse, debilitating injury, self harm, light body horror, ptsd, severe paranoia, death, blood, light gore and a hell of a lot of violence.
Castellum Mortua - Entry
cw: allusions to human experimentation, suicide ideation
"Nos summus manus, Nos sumus deus. We are the Hand, We are the God."
♪ - Alienus
Such was the declaration heard upon entering the Spirit Realm that held Takame. Nonsense words for the uninitiated. That is, if they weren’t coming from Takame’s voice. The motto of the nation of Garlemald uttered with a pride never displayed before.
The inside of the dungeon was a seemingly endless path with yet more corridors and faceless automatons passing between them. On occasion they would salute one another, every five passers by as if on routine. Every step taken would echo against the steel blue floor and walls painted with the ivory standard over what was once one the color of a sprawling field.
Barriers that would otherwise prevent a fall into the Spiritual Abyss were left with scratches from an incredibly potent blade and burns that only had the memory of warmth to the touch. Signs of combat long passed.
There were options to proceed. The soldiers along the path before you were no more than cannon fodder, sheeps to the slaughter.
Nothing is even a challenge to break anymore.
Your thought? Or the voice?
The combat capable with incredible stamina could fight their way forward. For a while they would seem to keep coming without end. From capsules lining the walls of each corridor, smoke is released and unspeakably horrific creatures emerge and add to the numbers. Not far from the capsules, there are people in chains without faces, many protesting and falling to their knees and begging to not be put "there". Try as you may, you cannot save them from being forced into the capsules, drained of every shred of life right before your eyes and joining the many numbers of monsters and soldiers assaulting you.
It wouldn’t take too long before you overwhelm them and move on. But that also risks you running out of steam before the race even began.
Or maybe the rush of battle will empower you?
Give me something to live for. Give me the only purpose I have. I'd rather be dead without it.
(OOC Note: As you proceed in this log, fighting will buff you where avoiding fights will make you more exhausted. No abilities will be disabled, but they will be much less potent. Not only that, Shadow Takame will react to you differently depending on how much you've fought throughout the log, be it with more respect or hostility. Keep this in mind as you go on!)
Castellum Mortua - Vents
cw: depictions of child abuse both emotional and physical
♪ - Fakery Way
The keen eyed, or considerate of the non-combat capable, may look to their flanks where boxes of supplies are stacked on top of each other. Something is on the ground next to them, charged with aether. A Gunblade cartridge.
Could it have been left behind by Takame?
The boxes are climbable, and looking up there is an accessible vent that connects… somewhere. Large enough to fit a few people as the facility seems to be fairly sizeable. If one wanted to take a stealthy route, they could climb through the vents.
But the further along they go, they’ll feel a sense of apprehension. Of agitation.
"Van, for a Legatus." A young boy's voice recited. "Tol, Tribunus laticlavius. Sas... Tribunus angusticlavius or P... puruaefectus casutro--""
A striking sound cut him off.
"Your pronunciation is off again. We've been over this. Again." An older voice reprimanded.
"... Yes, father. I'm sorry father."
"Be correct, not sorry."
"... Yes, father. Sas, Tribunus angusticlavius or Praefectus castrorum. Rem, Primus..."
The vents will become hot to the touch to an unbearable degree like you're stepping on hot coals barefoot. The sense that you chose the wrong path will form deep in your heart even though logically, this path was sound.
Until multiple explosions go off after you make it.
And again, the voice will be heard upon exit and you'll feel like your motivation is being sapped away.
To fight is to be strong. To be strong is to live. To be weak is to be subjugated, then annihilated. Prolong it if you wish, the end is inevitable.
The Far Edge of Fate - Rush
cw: allusions to partial immolation
♪ - splash
No matter the route you take to go outside, you’ll find yourself still on a steeled bridge. But now steps between the paths taken have broken. Cracks form in the steel, dents that a feather’s worth of weight will cause to collapse, entire portions of the railings melted down or otherwise gone.
Where have the pieces gone? Floating in a dark, empty space that "outside" was. Where nebulous clouds and starless skies are all that’s visible if you look up. The deep purples and blues all around make visibility difficult aside from the occasional out of place pillar of light.
Though it would be more accurate to call it a failing lantern on its last legs before the flame fades.
Warrior of Light. Our Weapon of Light. I must fulfill my best use as such, I will never be human.
Looking back revealed the halls you just came from were now engulfed in flames. Combat was inevitable here. Unless you attempt to outrun the barrage of wyverns, bits and blackbirds that are coming at you from the sky, only to barely reach the end of your path, hopping along broken bridges, asteroids and debris and outrunning the falling ceruleum tanks exploding overhead.
"Leave him, he's nothing to us. If he can't be saved he can't be saved. There'll be more like him." An authoritative voice, somehow audible over the explosions.
"Commander, we can repair his...! He won't have feeling in it but please if we act now...!" The older voice from earlier.
"Throw him in the infirmary, then I want you find the savages that planted the explosives. That's an order!"
Run and run and run further away. If you don't the flames will catch up to you. No, in the end they will anyway. Run through the flames and you'll feel them ruin your body, scream in agony until you can't feel it anymore despite them leaving no trace on your body.
The Far Edge of Fate - Clash
cw: self harm, undetailed body horror
♪ - Ultima
At the edge of the straight path you'll find that a massive dark abomination, like something out of a nightmare, blocks it and will eliminate you if you don’t kill it.
There's a sound that came from it, a mechanical whirring that resembled a whimper. A thrumming like an unsteadily beating open heart connected by wire and aether.
The observant will note weaknesses in its frame. Its hands have digits missing, across its chest is a wide slash much like those at the entrance and electrical sparks went off around it. Whatever was once there won't be a problem for you.
"It could have been me. If the wheel of fate had turned differently, that could have been me activating Oversoul instead of..."
A loud swear in Hingan, or Japanese, followed by a slam, then the cracking of bone.
"Takame...!"
"I am fine. I am fine, Alphinaud. ... He saved you. I owe him."
The problem is, if the way you took was forward then there is no retreat. Your path behind you is gone, scattered to the depths of space. The arena you have to fight this monster is small. And the more you linger in fighting it, the more its overwhelming power closes the area in around you, surrounding the edges with magic that cuts through your skin, causing bleeding or burning that refuses to heal.
With all these factors at play, it could very much be your end long before you ever see Takame again.
Is there a way past it? To escape from this unwinnable battle? There was a space in the circle of fire where it was weak. And it led forward. Will you fight, riding the high of battle? Or will you flee and let it wither away?
The Sight of Sacrifice - Hollow
cw: ptsd, paranoia, death, undetailed gore
♪ - ridicule
If your preference is to try and run past it, you will be forcibly separated from the others. Where there is no combat there is deafening silence. Listlessness that will permeate your very soul. Emptiness as far as the eyes can see with no sign of your friends and slowly dampening motivation as your reasoning for being here in the first place leaves your mind.
The silence consumes your mind, entering it like water getting into your lungs. The more you struggle to swim away from the current of loss the harder it became to breathe. You are not supposed to be here, you had to be fighting. You chose wrong again. You made a mistake again.
You're being punished for it.
You have to be fighting. If you aren't you ought to be dead, you are about as useful as a corpse at that point.
The voice will also become more persistent.
Staying around long enough may get you a glimpse of a familiar horned figure. But something isn’t quite right.
What are my orders?
What have I done?
What are my orders
What are my orders
What are my orders
Why am I
Who
Tsurugi. Tsurugi. A blade. A blade. The Warrior of Light. The Warrior of Light.
Tread with caution. As you try to find the voice… or even remember yourself, the horned figure will be hovering over you, blade drawn and ready to strike if you don’t have help or defend.
He will disappear in a flash once spotted, but save for the silhouette, the most noticeable feature would be his glowing yellow eyes.
In the blackest darkness memories seem to fade more and more. In the winding dirt and shade the scent of blood is all you know and the rotted remains of corpses are everywhere you step. Most without faces, be they hidden or disfigured, some with clear expressions.
With signs of regret, fear, rage, agony. Even smiles that it only clawed at your consciousness to see. In your ears there are more voices and flies buzzing around the bodies despite you knowing there are none here.
"TRAITOR...! TRAITOR TO YOUR COUNTRY! A POX UPON YOUR NAME!"
"He's a monster...! A MONSTER...!"
"A smile better suits..."
"We did everything right... and still... STILL IT CAME TO THIS!"
"You... are... death."
But if you lose yourself. Find yourself alone on all fronts. Look to the light of the crystal. That which marks the Travelers sigil.
Something else known to be in Takame’s possession. The sight of the crystal will reignite your sense of purpose and reason and fill you with the determination to complete your quest.
It will guide you back to yourself. Will it bring you back to your friends? Will you find it before you forget everything you are? Or will death find you first?
The Sight of Sacrifice - Finality
cw: potentially intense violence
It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’ve told nothing but lies to weaklings who will perish in an instant.
I will never be human. I will never be truly capable of feeling, of thinking.
I will never be a man, only a war machine. I will never be a hero, only a failure whose actions bring more death.
I will never be worthy of his love.
I will never
be Takame Kesi.
Past the large enemy, or the sea of your own self doubt, you will reach the end. The end of what?
Everything.
♪ - the executioner
Just a void that seems to stretch into an eternal dark sky. At the end of it a figure stands. Clad in white, red and gold, a heavy cape with a high collar and a pervasive sensation of the void radiating from his person.
A turn of his head revealed it to be Takame, but not quite.
His hair was cut short, but there was no mistaking those scales and horns. His other most prominent feature, his green-teal eyes, were glowing yellow and on his face, his expression varied.
A twisted smirk if you went through every combat zone.
A disappointed, condescending pout if you did not. Regardless of his look, he greeted you thusly.
"Ah, ‘twould seem you’ve made your way to me. I’ve been waiting for so long that I almost broke this one." Stepping off to the side to gesture at the “one” in question, the real Takame laid. Bloodied and beaten on the ground, still breathing and conscious but no more than that. The armor he’d come in with was torn apart, his Gunblade thrown far behind him and his long hair matted and partially ripped out in the fake Takame’s hand.
Even still he managed some defiance.
"Do not… touch them…!" To which the Shadow responded with a kick that made him spit more blood.
"Will you stop me, Kesi? You who forgot our actions, who thought acting as if you were a person would erase how we helped crush Doma under our heel?" He turned to you.
"Who felt the most SATISFACTION in our battles with Zenos viator Galvus than any single event in our lives?!" He laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Takame didn’t, couldn’t, say anything. Either from his injuries or the fact that it was just… true.
"Even this foolish lot. Who are they to me but rats I can kill with a thought? 'Saviors'? You can’t save a machine that is long dead inside, waiting for a decent bout to be my resuscitation. "
(OOC Note: Shadow Takame will be NPC'd by me. Threadjacking within reason is still welcomed in it as are separate TL's, but when your characters get to this point this is where the paths taken throughout the dungeon will come into play. While he could potentially be talked down by certain people it is very possible for that your character will get hurt especially if they're not combat savvy. The extent of the injury is up to your discretion/comfort level.
Shadow Takame will not attack Yusuke Kitagawa directly under any circumstances.)
entry
but the comfort comes to a sharp halt all too soon. viv's disquieted by the grim sight before them, but she doesn't expect such an extreme reaction from vash, is paralyzed by that surprise as he rushes forward in vain desperation. as he falls to his knees and howls, however, she's by his side in an instant, kneeling down and grasping his shoulder.]
Hey. Hey. Look at me.
Re: entry
And then there's a hand on him.
It's clarifying, like someone had poured ice water over his eyes--shocking him out of his panic in a matter of moments. His head turning to give Rem--no, Viv? A startled look--making him remember, all at once, where he was. Shit. ]
S--sorry.
[ he manages to choke out the words, hand reaching to try to find where he'd dropped his gun, his other hand moving up to scrub his face, to swallow down the pile that burned the back of his teeth. ]
I couldn't.
I couldn't save them.
Again.
no subject
Don't apologize.
[she pauses for a moment before continuing.]
... I don't think anyone could have saved them here.
no subject
But. How. How can he fight those things, knowing they're...? ]
I could have, if I were faster. [ he argues moot point, anyway. ]
...Knock the automatons off, but avoid the monsters. Maybe they can be saved, still.
I can't kill those.
We're going to have to find another way around.
no subject
...Alright.
no subject
...I'm gonna' try to get past them.
Thank you.
For waking me up.
no subject
[it was the literal least she could do.]
... Be careful.