ERode

Iris Ascendis

Hmm, unless @AThousandCurses wants to go a couple of rounds more, it may be appropriate for you to respond pronto with Ciara, @Estylwen, and then Nanaya can yeet us all into the class with their next post.

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark}

Well, their silence was a bit meaningless, really. What did they think Otis was, an unfeeling machine who had never obtained companions before? A complete asocial buffoon who made no efforts to understand human emotion and the roots of irrationality? He simply raised an exasperated brow, first at Iraleth for making a bold-faced lie, then at Ciara for thinking that he couldn't fill in the blanks by himself. Couldn't fill in the blanks, when it was obviously an extension of the question that had been poised just one day ago.

What are you?

"Well, make sure you've eaten dinner at 5PM then. It helps to have replenished yourself before a fight, and something warm would help settle the nerves too," Otis replied, leaning back. "As for myself, it was both about as productive and unproductive as one may expect when there's still so many restrictions in place. The Iris Record that you'll be fighting in is considered a nexus of the artificial leylines that have been constructed over Wingram Academy. Chances are high that Iraleth would have a definitive advantage there then, considering how uncommon divine conduits are to begin with." After all, what was more difficult than artificially imparting what had to be divinely given? "Of course, it also serves as the dormitory for students of special circumstances and possess high-enough security that they wouldn't even let anyone in properly through the front doors, so they will likely have defensive arcane measures around the dueling room itself to prevent anything unfortunate from spilling out."

The Strigidae had a bit of a poignant pause himself, wondering just how dangerous knowledge of Raja's activities would prove to be. She had been lax in terms of watching her back, for sure, not protecting her secrets in a way that indicated it was a secret worth protecting, but while he expected Iraleth to provide a particular perspective regarding shadowy figures speaking of the fall of Goetia, what did he expect out of Ciara?

"It's a shame that this is your first duel though, rather than one with Gulliver. I'd have liked an opportunity to study the Foreteller's capability from a safer distance." He had an understanding of the elven paladin's own powers, after all. There was less mystery, less intrigue, when one simply had the power to become a hero, stalwart and kind. "But regardless, Ciara, I'll be your second."

He stood up with her, his body tilting downwards so he could catch her gaze even when her countenance was gloomy and affixed to the floor. The truce persisted, but Otis would've been lying if he wasn't simply grabbing an opportunity made from the irrationality of his peers. Who could have known, that it'd take less than a day for duels to be brought into the proving grounds?

"You are doing this because you can't afford to lose, right? If not, then I can puzzle out how to make for a reasonable defeat instead.

Expedition to Isekai

---

//Day 2 | Location: Nameless Forest - Lakeside
_{@Yankee@Nakushita@Vertigo@baraquiel}
"Hokkaido..."

She had thought that she had resolved herself, had accepted it. She thought that she had felt all there was to feel, and now the numbness would settle in so that she wouldn't be a snot-faced mess. But it wasn't that easy, was it? Yukiko had felt his pulse fade at last, had heard his last breath rasp out between slightly-parted lips, had saw that near-indistinct change in complexion once the blood no longer flowed. Had saw the expression on Asahi's face. Her nose tickled. Her jaw tightened. Her fists clenched over her pleated skirt. Her breath came sharply, erratically. Her eyes reddened once more, cheeks flushed with a shame that all she could accomplish was watch and cry.

Duncan had left. He had long known the result, and so did she. But Yukiko couldn't leave. She remained there, rooted, biting back the tears, incapable of even telling Asahi that it wasn't even his fault, that he didn't everything that he could, that she was thankful he cared enough to do all this.

An impact sounded by the doorway, a fist striking wood. The shelter was fragile; it shook from the blow as Daisuke bit back his own desire to scream. His face contorted, shadows cast over it by the morning light behind. Blood trickled down from his knuckles but he held back his own desire to strike again. His was a crushing self-loathing, one that had built up throughout the entirety of two nights and two days beneath the surface, one that burst out now that there was no way of redoing it, of making up for his mistake. Who had been the one to lead them all and rush that one monster? He had been. And this was the result. If they had waited just a bit longer, if they had chosen to run instead, wouldn't Duncan and Asahi have Awakened anyways? He held it back, that desire to rage, but he didn't have the right either, to intrude upon this place.

One step. Another step. And Daisuke left, seeking something to do, something to keep his mind off it all.

...

Masami had woken up early to wash herself in the lake.

To purify herself, perhaps.

Despite the cold, she scrubbed herself clean of the soot from the flames. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, trying to straighten out any clumps. She rinsed her mouth and spat it out into the dirt. She washed her face with a damp handkerchief, dully understanding that it had been two nights since she had used a proper cleanser. She had stayed ankle-deep in the shallows, clearing her mind with the chill of the gentle waves.

And as the mist evaporated, as the day warmed up, she turned. There Masato was.

One thing no one taught you was that asking a peer to perform funeral rites for a mutual classmate was incredibly awkward. It sucked, suffice to say. Masato knew a little about Takehara's background, and though he didn't know if she still kept up with her shrine duties or if she even knew how to do what he was asking. They didn't have much they could use for offerings either, and purification was... probably impossible. But anything was better than nothing. So he explained that Endo had passed, and swallowed the awkwardness to flat out ask her to assist.

"Anything you can do. Even just some prayers would be good, I think," he went on, his voice neutral.

A sigh. She wasn't that close to Yuki. Honestly, she never liked him to begin with. Shallow twerp, that guy was, always chasing after the few girls that didn't learn to ignore his flirtations the first time around. She remembered back when he was still a chubby kid with a bowl cut, running around with a stick to poke dead cicadas or cow poop with. She remembered too many memories that were more embarrassing than fond. That was the thing about Kuroshio. Small town like this, even when you didn't like someone, you'd still have plenty of memories about them.

"Of course." That was what she had been doing all morning, preparing for this. That was what she had failed to do for Yuudai, in the rush to escape, the rush to move on, the rush to ignore that small grave where only gorey pulp was buried. She'll do it right this time, and hope that Yuudai forgive her for failing him. "Leave it to me, prez."

...

They didn't have time, not really. Breakfast was practically just leftover soup, diluted to nothing in order to fill the stomachs with something. There was plenty to be done. Most set off, as a result. Most of them hadn't come to terms yet, with the fact that Yuki was dead. There had been nothing recognizable left when it came to Yuudai, but here? It looked as if he was asleep. Yet it looked as if something had changed, in its entirety.

It was a simple affair.

Daisuke, under Masami's instructions, had cleaned Yuki's body best he could, spooning water from the lake so that they didn't end up tainting their only source of fresh water.

Ayano, of all people, had used what remained of her makeup kit to give Yuki the semblance of life, if nothing else. Clearing out blemishes, smoothing out the complexion, adding a bit of blush.

Yukiko had set off to the perimeter of the camp, plucking what wildflowers she could find. It was only enough for a handful of scattered blooms, but their brilliance was a vivid thing nonetheless, and she placed them in Yuki's folded arms.

Though they didn't have incense, Hana had found some damp moss, enough so that it could be set to smoulder and smoke. She didn't linger to see the ceremony however, and strode off alongside Rin.

Under normal circumstances, there would have been a wake before the burial. But here, it was done simultaneously. Masami chanted her sutras, a daughter of a priest in full. Words were whispered to the deaf dead. They lowered Yuki's body eight feet into the earth, before scrambling out. Strange, how distant eight feet was.

Strange, knowing that there would be nothing of Yuki's to return to his family, if they ever escaped the Otherside.

A handful of dirt was held in Duncan's hand. He had dug out the grave himself. It was only right then, that he ought to be the one who began the process of filling it back up.

...

Hiroshi learned of the future, and tragically, it appeared that the future was strangely predictable. He could've guessed such fates, after all, with just a bit of imagination. And such fates could be avoided too, with just a bit of good advice, given and taken.

But still, it was interesting enough, seeing how far delusion mixed with faith. The religious still considered themselves capable of determining what was fantasy and what was reality, despite their beliefs in the supernatural. Could this 'Oros' not be the same thing? Outside of the whole possibility of dissociative disorder manifesting from stress.

"Well," he said, gazing at the small lean-to shelter that Oros had made, "Planning on joining them? That funeral's probably for Yuki."

---

_{@AThousandCurses}
Was that smoke she smelled?

No, it must just be a figment of the imagination.

With food her first priority, Shun stepped out into the forest once more, eyes alert for any sign of something edible. All she knew was the direction away from the lake, and she went that direction without much deliberation. It would be bad, in some ways, if her fellow Awakened students came across her, tried to convince her to stay with them. It would be worse if she encountered Ayana-Oros again.

But she did not.

She encountered a patch of mushrooms, ones with sepia caps and purple spots instead, clustered inside a pile of decaying leaves. There were hard berries clinging to another bush further off, dense enough that it looked unlikely to be very juicy at all. A few plants reminded her of the dandelions back home, the ones that you could make tea or a vegetable dish out of. The insects that she had brushed off herself, of course, could be eaten too if she was feeling adventurous. But it was only going to take the edge off her hunger. She needed meat. Thick, sizzling steaks of meat! Everything on the forest floor, compared to meat, was just a garnish.

And then, Shun's foot sank down three inches.

There it was, a footprint four times her own, pressed into the soft soil. A giant-sized predator. Potential prey for her, if she could down it. Certainly massive enough that tracking it wouldn't be difficult even for a street-punk like herself. But she was alone too. Could she risk it, fighting a creature that could very well squash her flat? She remembered them, those hulk-phants. The massive creatures who crashed through the bus as if it were nothing more than a cardboard box.

Who had finished off what remained of Yuudai.

What was the risk here? What was the reward?

Iris Ascendis

Think one or two more rounds of dialogue between the three and we'll be good for bouncing off to class. I'm guessing it'd be awkward for Ciara to like, talk about her plans of illegally breaking into places while the Lawful Good goon is there.

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark}

Otis stared at Davil as the blushing boy tried to deflect, to obscure, the obvious. Did the Wund scion believe himself to be unreadable? Did he believe in the brilliance of a perfect scenario, blind to the value of imperfect scenarios? No, that couldn’t be it.

He was just shy.

The Strigidae let out a sigh. “Opportunities that are not grasped become regrets,” were his last words, before Ciara pulled him away, pointedly ignoring Davil in the process. Was she wholly disinterested in him then? Or was she simply just as incredibly dense? Or was she actually fairly interested, but possessed enough of a poker face that she wasn’t reduced to a blushing mess at the prospect of a surprise morning encounter? He made a mental note to interrogate Davil after, to ascertain the depths of his affections for Ciara. He’d do the same for Ciara too, at a more appropriate time.

Of course, during all this thinking, Otis didn’t even consider how it must look for Davil, to see his roommate be immediately pulled away by the girl he was interested in, as she (didn’t actually) stood on the tips of her toes to whisper a secret into his ear.

“I can only open a Door where I have been before,” he replied in an even tone. Iraleth was coming over. “We can discuss this transaction at a latter time.”

And like that, the paladin was upon them, practically towering over the two students. Must be the elf blood, coupled with plenty of nutrition. “I know little about the church,” Otis said. “And while it’d be lovely to have a conversation with you in regards to the practices, beliefs, and hierarchy of such an influential organization, I recognize that your time is running out, so I will present you with this instead.”

There were things that his Adapa knew and things that he knew. Though the spiritual-grimoire had been bound to his essence, there was no guarantee that its creator could not have placed something inside it to allow for clandestine access of its contents.

“Swear that what you see shall not be shared with any other, except with my approval. In return, I ask only that you act upon this knowledge as you wish.”

Iraleth squinted in suspicion at Otis, but eventually gave a solemn nod.

"I swear it, upon my sword."

Arcane murmurings and gesticulations upon his brow, drawing out the essence of memory and experience that he had plucked second-hand from the delusions of an unbroken Adapa. Faint light collected in the palm of his hand, before compressing into a needle of prismatic brilliance that shot into Iraleth’s left eye.

…

Dark cellar. Small form. Encaged. Two forms.

One. North Rekordian accent. Tall. Masculine. Settling a debt. She was that debt.

Two. Small. A beautiful, but unaccented, voice. Slight as shadow. Eyes like emeralds, and, from behind, a giant eye, splitting that murky void. She succeeded in something. She was working for someone. She needed her for something.

Goetia will fall.

…

While Iraleth enjoyed that experience, Otis got his own food...from his pocket pouch, after seeing that it wasn’t free. Stepping out of the line without even having picked up the coffee that he said he would have, the Strigidae sipped on a canteen of tea in-between bites of pemmican while motioning the others to come sit with him.

“Setting aside personal business, how was the remains of yesterday? Let’s swap information regarding this academy.”

Iris Ascendis

You’re too kind, Nanaya. Should’ve told them to read the first OOC post again. ;3

Iris Ascendis

Will wait for Iraleth at the very least before yapping.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Dang, had a whole ass adventure.

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

On the bright side, NoCo's been logging in relatively frequently, and Zeroth has yet to post, so one could form the hypothesis that they're both just engaged in action in the PMs, to be settled before NoCo can make a GM post.

That being said, there's not enough rain and snow in my winter thus far, and this displeases me.

Iris Ascendis

Gradually reducing the number of disparate parts Nanaya's gotta make.