[Mini Event] (SE) like rats out of a sinking ship

How does one summon the sick? By ringing a bell, of course. Where did Wessex get said bell? She can’t tell you. And it doesn’t really matter. Much like the Pied Piper and his children, or perhaps a nun yelling Shame!, the Wraith wanders through the Settlement and other central areas of the Ground, calling for everyone to come and bring out their ill. Some might think it good news, but alas, all the work that has been done in other areas has been neglected in the Grounds; they have been left to their fate, or so it may seem, because what are timelines, without healing water or knowledge of the metal, they are in the dark. It’s ironic, isn’t it. Mmmm, yes, there’s something funny about that. Somewhere. The Wraith is slumped a bit against the Temple altar, using the big building for its echoey-sounds so she doesn’t have to speak so loudly, if she even had the inclination to do so. She’s failing. Failing at protecting the families and, well, just failing in general. Despair and delirium are her names now - all she wants is for the Voice to appear to them and tell them it will be alright, she can fix it. Mother, where are you? “No star-help, no moon-help, no friends for poor Ascendeds,” she seems to say to herself, eyes on where the Voice should appear, her cheek pressed to cooler marble and the fingers of a hand tracing an unpredictable pattern on the floor. "No friends, she went and bit them all..." WESSEX come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here

You make my heart shake bend and break

Oliver looks like absolute fucking shit.

And that's putting it lightly.

Lets just say... he looks like he got run over by a bunch of trucks carrying fertilizer, cement, watermelons, and... yeah, you get the point.

His clothes are... clean enough. He changed them two days ago. His hair... well, this is the first time anyone will ever see him with his roots showing that much. His hair is caked with mud, sweaty, and all-around a mess. The color of brown is an inch at least in some parts.

The rest of his body is seemingly the same. It's obvious he hardly drinks or eats anything anymore nor has he slept enough judging by the bags under his eyes.

His arrival is rather quiet but he soon finds himself plopping down a seat close to Wessex. "Blueberry?" He asks, holding out a handful of buttons that weren't even blue.

OLIVER

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Much has changed in Amalia's absence. But for now, she has to prioritize.

Whatever happened to Evie, however Wessex became Queen (again?), wherever the rest of the plague has spread, the Shield has a duty to her people and her home. And though word that the Ascended are weakened by the illness does fill her with some amount of satisfaction, she will not begrudge them the chance at a cure. She spent too much time in the prison of the disease to cast it upon anyone, no matter their history.

And so she arrives at the meeting with water in hand and the intention to help, and immediately spots a very uncharacteristically unsteady Wessex. Concern furrows her brows tightly; her instinct is to go to the woman, to try and coax her to take a sip. She hesitates, though, the memory of attempting to get Loren to drink fresh on her mind. If the fight he put up was any sort of precursor, she knows she doesn't have a chance against the wraith.

So the Shield chooses a different route. One that, while perhaps absurd, seems safer in the end. "Sorry in advance to anyone who isn't ill," she calls into the gathering, before leaping up into the air, wings unfurled as she ascends to the upper limits of the temple...

...and begins to pour the water of Frey's Breath onto those below.

make peace with your broken pieces

if I ever start to think straight

Amun had followed the ringing sounds. Or at least, he thought there was a bell: it was so hard to tell these days. As he passed Oliver, the Ascended shook his head. "Noooo. Blueberries are water."

Staggering and weaving towards Wessex when he saw her, he tried to prop her up. Zhanshi followed at the potter's heels. Every once in a while, the landshark would nip at Amun to correct his direction.

At the queen's words, he frowned. Shaking his head, he tried to prop her up. "No biting. No need for the stars or the moon. We're bright. All we need is each other." He swept his gaze over the assembled group.

Of course Amalia appeared. He grinned at the Shield. "Amalia! Have you come to be bright too?"

When she leapt into the air, though, and water, cursed water began to pour from her, he shrieked. Raising his right arm he fired a wild flashbang at her, trying to stun her and knock her from the sky. Then he cowered from the liquid raining everywhere.

this heart will start a riot in me

Amun

God help the outcasts, the tattered, the torn

Seeking an answer to why they were born

Bastien had never been keen on leaders in general, not even when his wife had been one of them; he'd always believed in community and council and had not found his faith in the Doges of his time, nor the Kings and Queens in Caido.

That said, when he saw Wessex walking by with her bell, he felt a flicker of hope within his chest and a sense of thankfulness that they had someone in charge. Unawares of Wessex being sick too he gladly followed, hoping that at the end of their trail they would come across the cure to his ailment, or at least some kind of relief. In better spirits than he had been in a while he walked quickly, immediately bounding up the stairs into the temple with no hesitation.

Then Wessex seemed to only go and lay at the shrine. Bastien stared in confusion, wondering if she was doing some kind of ritual, offering herself up. While he didn't understand it, he could absolutely appreciate the image of the Wraith collapsed by the shrine and his aesthetic senses, still active despite the sickness, made him step forward.

Suddenly, it seemed that her prayer had done it's work. From the ceiling began to fall water in heavy droplets. Bastien jumped, flinching hard and trying to run for shelter, sure that they had somehow invoked a curse. In his addled state though, he struggled to find good cover and found himself growing quite wet, his sounds of distress growing louder by the moment.

Winds of misfortune have blown them about

You made the outcasts, don't cast them out

BASTIEN

Is what happens pure luck? Random chance? A complex set of calculations based on factors you've not even considered? What a good question. The droplets on water sting Wessex 's skin, and though she doesn't feel pain, her circuitry with snap and fire as if she's being subjected to small electrical shocks. Amun experiences much the same, his flash-bang going quite wide as he tries to through it at Amalia. Bastien gets the worst of it, the water sizzling and snapping like water on a grease fire, and a good chunk of his hair bursts into flame before immediately being doused.

You make my heart shake bend and break

The offer to Wessex is cut short when Amun comes on by. Staring at the man, he tilts his head. "Blue... water berries?" Before he can ask for more, his attention is distracted by Amun kneeling before Wessex. His head tilts and he watches with quite an intent gaze before Amun's attention is once more changed. It seems Oliver is mostly focused on those immediately before him and is only able to notice Amalia's existence thanks to Amun bluntly pointing it out.

"Amalia? You-.... you're so bright?" She looked pretty bright, since that is what Amun said she was here to do... and then all hell broke loose.

Water droplets cascaded down from the ceiling and Oliver's eyes widened, his mouth opening in a gasp. His reaction is sudden and before anything can happen. He shifts into his bird shift and immediately flies off to the side, landing own and trying to hide himself from the water. Wings try to cover his head and his face, but that only does so little.

Through the feathers he sees everything. Bastien's hair catching fire- it has to be fake. It has to be.

Shifting back into his human form, Oliver finds himself stumbling on over to Bastien's side. His head feels cloudy and it's a mess- but he has to help his friend before figuring out what the fuck was going on. His movements were harsh and it was obvious Oliver was exhausted. He wants to reach for Bastien but doesn't- no- instead he stops a short bit away from the Ascended.

"Bastien, are you there? Please, speak with me.... is there a unicorn nearby?" The latter was addressed to the crowd. Unicorns helped... right?

OLIVER

“Couldn’t get them,” Wessex says as Amun tries to prop her up, half-heartedly pushing him away. She couldn’t get Nate and Sam, hasn’t gone for Neron, got side-tracked by Loren and then - how did she get here? Blinking at the few assembled, she wonders where the others are - Osozo and Letha and Evelyn and Mara. Her mind reaches for them even if her hands cannot, but before she can attempt to make any contact with them, she is distracted by someone going up - up - up - A god? The thought blankets her mind as she stares at Amalia, eyes wide and in awe of the not-girl not-god… that is, at least until the water rains down on them. As it is the water that does Wessex damage and not Amalia, the girl isn’t hit by that specific backlash, but the sparks and the little jolts make her feel like she is, without a doubt, under attack. And what does Wessex do when she’s under attack? She reacts. With a roar fueled by surprise and a sense of betrayal, there is a sudden jolt of movement as she calls up the Ascended’s shadows to cover them like half-solid cloaks. But it’s not enough to stop there; god or not-god, it can’t attack them like that and expect to get away with it. WESSEX come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Things do not go as she hoped.

She'd known there was a chance the water wouldn't work on Ascended, but she never expected it to backfire like this. From her position in the rafters Amalia can only look on in horror as electricity sparks out from the Ascended gathered, even going so far as to catch fire. Worse, she doesn't know which of those below are actually sick, and who has been subjected to this for no reason save her own poor planning.

And though part of her stows this information away for later, just in case the rest is more concerned than vindictive just now.

"I'm sorry!" Amalia calls from the rafters, not daring to descend after Amun already attacked her once. "I- the water, it came from a spring in the Climb. It cured others temporarily... It must not work on Ascended. Mort!"

Cursing quietly, the girl shifts in her position far above and chews hard on her lip. "There's got to be something else... There were flowers, maybe those? Or the metal. I'll, I'll look for it. And I can help you now, maybe, if you let me..." Her dark eyes settle on Wessex, hopeful and apologetic.

---

Information shared:
1. The water from Frey's Breath seems to help cure people.
2. Except apparently not Ascended, oops.
3. There are also flowers, we don't know what they do.

make peace with your broken pieces

if I ever start to think straight

Shrieking as his skin crackled with electricity and was drenched with water, Amun raised his arms over his head as if to block it, though it did little good. Thankfully, the deluge stopped, but there were pools of the cursed liquid everywhere. Amun hissed at all of it. Eying the puddles, he skirted around the evil liquid, staring up at Amalia.

"She's a devil in disguise," he accused, pointing a finger up at her and baring his teeth. His lips twisted into a snarl and his features into a rictus of fear and anger.

However, his gaze tracked towards Bastien. The potter's eyes widened. "Bastien had fire!" Gliding towards the artist, Amun reached for the other man's scorched hair. "Bring it back," he demanded.

this heart will start a riot in me

Amun

God help the outcasts, the tattered, the torn

Seeking an answer to why they were born

Somehow, the cursed water not only fell everywhere within the building, it somehow denied it's very nature only to set him alight. Bastien yelled, reaching up to pat and grab at his hair: it immediately was out, but there was clearly damage. Unable to feel any pain he was only scared and upset, crouching down where he stood and grabbing at his missing hair with a desperate motion.

He was vaguely aware of Oliver's voice somewhere nearby but didn't acknowledge it, too wrapped up in his own panic and the still-falling water. When it finally stopped he looked up, only to see Amalia sat in the roof? It had to be some kind of hallucination, but he was having trouble deciphering if this whole thing was a dream, at this point.

"Why did you hurt my hair?!" He called out towards the rafters, before roughly elbowing Amun off him and stumbling more towards the middle of the temple, trying to crane his neck to look up at Amalia.

Winds of misfortune have blown them about

You made the outcasts, don't cast them out

BASTIEN

Water does not work on Ascended is what her brain picks out and the Wraith snarls up at Amalia as she is ‘pinned’ to the ceiling. The rest of the world falls away, Oliver and Amun and Bastien and their noise is gone, all her feelings about the woman welling up and threatening to explode in frustrations, erupting into emotional lava and destroying everything in her wake. But somehow - somehow - Loki is there. She flies in between the Wraith and the Shield, a screech turning into a croon as she hovers in front of her bonded’s face. The snarl disappears, melting into pure adoration for her companion. “Loki,” she exhales, reaching to the half-grown dragon. “Where have you been?” And then even quieter (except it really isn’t), she whispers “Did you find the metal?” “Okay. I’ll go,” she says, sadly, when Loki shakes her little lizard head. The rational part of her knows she shouldn’t. She can't. But they need it. And she has to protect the families. WESSEX come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here

if I ever start to think straight

As Bastien elbowed Amun out of the way, he whined. "I just wanted fire," he called after the departing artist. The potter pouted, and rubbed at the spot the other man had hit.

Following the flight of the dragonling, Amun's eyes widened as he heard the words fall from Wessex's mouth. Stumbling towards her, he pointed towards Oliver. "Oliver has metal. Lots of metal! At the forge. I made it all gooey. And fire there too, but I killed it." The potter reached out for the Wraith and the blacksmith and tried to tug them closer to one another, but unfortunately they were both out of reach.

He frowned as his hands closed on nothing but open air. "Why didn't that work?" Moaning a bit, he rocked back and forth where he stood.

this heart will start a riot in me

Amun

Amalia

the shield of safrin

The powder keg defuses as quickly as it ignited, with Wessex subdued by Loki's (fortuitous) appearance  and Amun and Bastien apparently distracted. To mention that she hadn't intended to light the latter on fire feels rather like a waste of time at this point; instead she focuses in on Wessex, though she does not leave the safety of the rafters just yet.

"The metal from Tanau?" Amalia asks carefully, slightly confused as Amun begins to talk about Oliver's shop. Slowly uncoiling, the girl retracts her wings and balances on the e "Wessex... there has to be something more in the tunnels, something we didn't see. Maybe the Eraichi knows, or Tanau... have you heard from them at all, since... everything?"

make peace with your broken pieces