EVENT | LANDFALL | VALISHAERA

[ironwood]

Characters: ALL!
Date: JULY 13-26
Location: Valishaera
Situation: Tu Vishan has made landfall on Siaxhi, to explore the Dreaming Watch City of Valishaera.
Warnings/Rating: Please indicate content warnings in subject headers as applicable.

As Tu Vishan draws near, the heavy jungle visible even from miles out quickly identifies the landmass as Siaxhi, one of the westernmost continents in Konryu and one that has been largely untouched insofar as the kedan themselves have gone. There is a natural inlet along the southeast shore on the continent and Tu Vishan makes for that, though he fills nearly all of it.



OOC INFORMATION
Landfall Questions | Approved Item Requests | Pocket Dreaming Signups

CITY OF VALISHAERA
Exploring the Coast | The Arybar | A Ruined City

WITHIN THE TEMPLE
The Monks' Domain | The Labs & Library | Gathering Rooms & Garden | The Pocket Dreaming Realms

LANDFALL MISSIONS
Dreamscape | Night's Wood | Inan | OOC Organization

Comments

[denyamenti]

It was so hard to resist every instinct screaming at him to eliminate the perceived threat to his ghosts, even though he understood what was going on intellectually, even though the ghosts themselves weren't afraid -- agitated by the happenings, yes, but not by a sense of danger. Still, Bakura's one hand unconsciously found the hilt of his knife, fingers gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white and bloodless.

Take the subclavian artery on the left, cut up and outward, he'll be unconscious in seconds, dead in under a minute...

The shadows surrounding them were certainly reacting to his level of anxiety over this experiment, even if the ghosts weren't. Red-tinged crackles of lightning crawled through the murk. The thief stared hard at Solomon, seeming almost unnaturally still against the shifting backdrop of darkness. Finally he turned his head slightly, addressing the ghosts instead. "Setemu-ef aa t'et, aakhu-i."

After a moment, one seemed to move into the space which Solomon's shadow was containing.

[peacefullywreathed]

Ah. Apparently he'd missed. Or at least missed enough to need a touch more direction. It was difficult to tell, with the ghosts being such an amorphous mass. Solomon wasn't unaware of the change in the khajbit around them, but he had no more mind to spare it; he had known, going in, that using the ghosts directly would have risked prodding Bakura's ire. That was why he'd wanted to use the Ring.

Too late now, and fortunately Bakura had enough control to resist doing what his instincts said. When the ghost entered the area defined by Solomon's shadows they stabilised, becoming more defined in terms of height and other general physical features. It felt as though something opened up under Solomon's hand, resonating wildly--painfully.

He grit his teeth and now his breathing came fast, almost raspy. His heart pounded all through him, until it felt as though something had to give. The link was there, he could feel it--but the slight hum of connection wasn't enough to actively draw through what was on the other side.

What would--oh. Solomon took one difficult step forward and dragged his fingers forward, the ones glistening with his blood. They shook as he wrote an ankh on the nameless spirit's forehead and then all at once the pressure centred as if a reverse suction had yanked something forward into the here. The silhouette shimmered and greyscale light bloomed across it, like a faded picture of a moving image from long ago.

[denyamenti]

Bakura had just opened his mouth to bark out a what the hell are you doing when detail shaded into the shadowed figure. The features weren't completely clear, but it was obviously enough for recognition because all the colour drained out of the thief's face and he stood mute and motionless.

The figure was a man working with two tools, one in each hand, one that resembled an awl and appeared to be working on something that couldn't be seen; it wasn't part of the image. After several seconds, it was as though something caught his attention and he stopped, lifting a hand as though to wave at someone and speak soundlessly. Then the tableau reset itself and the figure moved through the motions again, oblivious to the audience.

"Amanhef," Bakura said, the name choked out in barely more than a whisper... before the khajbit ripped itself free of his control and around them exploded with the force of a bomb, hurling them apart.

[peacefullywreathed]

Even before Bakura's choked word, Solomon's grasp on the spirit was seesawing. He could draw them together, but pulling together and knitting together weren't the same thing here, and the Necromantic power he was exerting just wasn't enough for a being so badly sundered. There just wasn't anything there to encourage healing.

Then their little bubble of reality exploded and Solomon was hurled back into one of the Dreaming's bookcases, and he tumbled to the floor without enough time to muster shadows as a cushion. He lay there and gasped for some moments, feeling as though he ought to have been cut to shreds or possibly torn to pieces from inside out.

It took far too long, but eventually he managed to get his hand to move and tried to push himself upright. He didn't succeed; his whole body felt like a limp noodle. He crawled over to the table instead, and between that and one single, thin shadow helping him up managed to get to his feet.

"Ba--" He coughed through his terribly dry mouth, as if he'd spent far too long in a desert, and tried again. "Bakura?"

That ... was not precisely the reaction he'd been expecting once they'd reached that far. He hoped that meant it was due to Bakura losing control and not anything they'd done wrong otherwise--or else they would have a great deal more to research before they tried again.

[denyamenti]

The thief had also been tossed ragdoll-like against the opposite wall, which wasn't any softer than the bookcase had been for Solomon. One hand crossed across his abdomen; he was sure he'd cracked a rib or two and his expression reflected that pain. Sharp pieces of the khajbit swarmed around him, acting like hungry wolves darting in to rip at the edges of his unprotected soul. It wasn't the first time he'd lost control of the shadows and paid the price for it, but it had been a while and it hurt.

The shadows thickened, almost frenzied and across his soul something shredded. Bakura couldn't stop a low groan that ended in a hiss as he waited for the khajbit to find its equilibrium again. "Stay back," he forced out to Solomon.

[peacefullywreathed]

It was the first time Solomon had seen the khajbit act in a fashion when it wasn't already encompassing a space, and for a moment he stared. Then he closed his eyes, took a breath and forced his thoughts into some semblance of order. He'd be damned if he lost an ally at this point because of a bloody--shadow.

He'd been practicing since he came out of the magic-gate with Raine, and though Solomon knew that he couldn't hope to match the same level of mastery Bakura had, he still felt he ought to lighten the burden. Solomon took a step closer and bit down on his tongue at the shaking pain in his knee that hadn't been caused just by exhausted. Right. Well, then, he'd just have to stay where he was.

The khajbit wasn't the sort of place that could simply be driven away, only assuaged with appropriate payment. Solomon glanced at the bowl of his blood on the table, and lifted his stinging hand to pick it up and throw it toward the shadows. The bowl was Dreaming--but the blood was real. Logic dictated it ought to help; blood shed usually did. He exerted just enough will to ensure the khajbit took it, instead of it splattering all over Bakura.

[denyamenti]

Taking last digs at Bakura, the shadows swarmed around the offered blood, absorbing not just the material itself but the essence it contained and Solomon would feel a bite out of his own energy before they vanished, leaving the two alone in the library setting. The thief took a moment to regain his composure before hurling a scathing, "What the hell were you doing to them? You never said anything about--!"

[peacefullywreathed]

Solomon had little enough energy to spare that the dig made him grunt, and he put all his weight on the table. Now the shock was starting to wear off, all the aches and pains he hadn't noticed were starting to make themselves known.

"About what?" he asked, when Bakura couldn't seem to finish his sentence. "I told you I was searching for the other parts of their being. What did you think I'd do with those parts, if not to put them back together?"

Particularly with Bakura standing right there. If Solomon had done anything other than what he'd already meant to do, he had no illusions about being dead in an instant.

[denyamenti]

Bakura's anger is quick, viper-like but it comes on the heels of that very stark moment where he'd been struck mute by what he'd seen. "They're not for you to experiment with!"

He gathers himself, pushing off the wall behind him to stand again. He's less steady than he would have wanted but that's to be expected. It doesn't stop him from grabbing Solomon's upper arm, grip tight enough to bruise. "And the khajbit should not have listened to you, blood trick or not. What are you hiding?"

[peacefullywreathed]

Under any other circumstance Solomon would have the strength to avoid or resist that grab; but he didn't now, and in Bakura's state it would have been dangerous to let the thief know that for certain. Instead Solomon forced himself to relax, to pretend no perceived danger from the action, and to ignore the constricted throb in his elbow.

Hopefully, most of Bakura's ire came from the unexpected sight of one of his kin. That meant it would likely fade. If not, Solomon might be in trouble.

"One of the gates here grants a magical boon to those who pass within it," he said calmly, answering the second question first. "It gave me access to the khajbit in creating small pockets, but I already knew I would not have the control necessary to serve my purposes for today. Given that fact, it did not seem a pertinent matter to raise."

His palm throbbed, still, and half-bitterly he hoped the shedding had been worth it. The gash had come open again; he could feel the blood congealing around his fingers. At this rate it was going to take a while to heal. Solomon ignored it, and looked Bakura in the eye. "I told you what I was planning. I will apologise to your kin if any of them were unduly harmed, but if you thought somehow that the spell would not directly influence them, the assumption is hardly my fault. If you would prefer I cease attempting to find the rest of them, you need only decline in future."

[denyamenti]

Whether Solomon had actually told him was debatable; he'd approached this as an experiment with the khajbit, not the ghosts. And while Bakura was perhaps at fault for not pressing for more information, he also felt that the necromancer had taken advantage of that. Either way, he shoves Solomon back roughly, turning towards the door that denoted the exit to this portal, apparently not caring whether the other man was in any shape to follow or not.

[peacefullywreathed]

Solomon caught himself on the table, hissed at the flare of pain it caused in his hand, and took a few moments to ensure that he would not, in fact, fall. With the way his knees shook, it was a near thing, particularly as his arms didn't seemed to want to hold him up for terribly long.

By the time he had righted himself, Bakura was already gone. Ah, well. Solomon wasn't dead; he counted that a minor miracle. He didn't bother to pursue the thief--but he took his time in leaving and making his way back to his apartment, not the least to ensure he didn't exacerbate his potential injuries more than necessary.