Complete Private Hearth

[Fiora Di Angelo]

To wake me up..?

"Heh." The insanity the stranger spoke of made her wishful for a fleeting moment. A bittersweet laughter follows, expressing all but anything positive as her throat closes and forces her to cough. "You are kidding me..." If this was a prank, it was too elaborate for one, but the seriousness with which this woman addressed her was proof otherwise, and yet...

"You're dreaming Nico,"
"You even know my name..." She shook her head in defeat rather than shock, setting her sight down to these hands, prestine in comparison to her wretched, dirty palms. The same words repeated over and over again:
A dream.
A nightmare.

She knew better than to believe in that, and yet nothing else was there to cling to, other than her one task this blonde so much interrupted for the sake of her health. The sudden mention of names forced her head back up, jarring stare set dead-on the one infront of her, veins popping from her neck, hatred forming in her features, yanking her hands away from this stranger's.

"If she ever met me again, I'm sure she would be wishing we've never did in the first place." Misery followed, fighting against the urge to break on tears again, giving her back to her healer, crawling her way closer in-between both graves and the makeshift wooden crosses, quick to pull out the holstered bow, careful with how she handled the offering as she rested it against the right-most grave.

"I wish I could believe this all is just a dream. The fever must have had a number on you if you are this hopeful..." Sitting on her knees, Fiora observed the weapon one last time, sighing off as the burden crawled through her back, growing heavier with memories.

"I'll do whatever you want. I'll get you out of this forsaken mist if that's what you want, and I'll die doing so. Just-"

The ranger's weapon worn down by dust, usage and blood. Were not for the broken string, it might still have some fight in it.

"-Just help me bury them, I can't leAvE thEm like this-" Water begun to wet the floor beneath her, her hands clasped tightly against her face once she begun to weep and shake, following a groan that wished it could be a scream instead. She reached out, clawing the piles of dirt closer to the left grave to continue it's burial, along with every teardrop she shed.

"I'm sorry Ronja, I'm S..S..-o...r..ry."

@Stranger

 

[Luthien]

"You are kidding me..." She couldn’t blame the greenette for thinking Lúthien was trying to pull her leg or something, not when the destruction all around them felt so real… she could only guess how much worse it’d been for Fiora before she entered their dream.

For a moment it seemed as if things would go her way as the use of Fiora’s real name seemingly had an effect on the other. A gentle squeeze was given to her hands as the blonde continued, but Lúthien could’ve never guessed the name of Ronja would trigger such a backlash from the greenette.

"Nico—" The other yanked her hands away from hers in a split second, while the hateful look that crossed their face caused the blonde to shrink back slightly. In many ways dealing with Nico was no different from dealing with a wild animal—always willful, and always unpredictable. "Ronja would never wish for that…she loves you, Nico."

There were cracks on the usually hardened exterior that Fiora was known for, gaps in the walls the greenette erected long ago that allowed Lúthien to see just a little bit further in. It made her own heart ache in turn, she hated seeing a dear friend in so much turmoil or the hitch in Fiora’s voice as she fought back the tears.

She had assumed the grave that Fiora shifted closer to belonged to their magia friend, until the other pulled a holstered bow from the makeshift wooden cross. A single look confirmed the weapon that Lúthien favored within this game had seen more than its fair share of tear and wear, her lips tight and sealed as Fiora carefully laid it atop the fresh mound of dirt in the right-most grave.

Some things were best left unasked.

"S-Sure, I’ll help you with them." How could she not when the greenette had finally caved and allowed her tears to run free? "Rest here, I’ll handle the rest okay?"

Her hand wrapped around the worn handle of the shovel Fiora had been using, its roughness easy to appreciate even through her gloves, before the blonde stood up and walked towards the nearest unfinished grave. The blade sunk into the freshened earth, aided by her foot as it placed pressure on the step, with the occasional low grunt being the only sound to accompany the sharp bites of the shovel against the soil as Lúthien began to pack the dirt into the grave.

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

Her body refused to pull away from the grave for a little, at least until the rightmost grave was done for, with only the shovel and her sobs to be heard. Her mind kept spinning over the other's words, and yet no matter how she tries to see it, the tale seemed ridiculous. Specially when coming out of a complete stranger.

Why does she talk to me like she knows me..?

With great anguish she departed, eyes fixated on the left grave as she crawled back to give space to the blonde to finish what she begun, and finally give them both a proper burial. Shaky hands set her back on her feet. Her sorrow and sins are the one thing she knew magic could not heal, and one half of her hoped it would take her down and drag her to her death sooner than later.

Her eye broke contact to focus on the blonde once more, leaning down to grasp her blade, rusted to oblivion as it is, and thrust it right next to the leftmost wooden cross. "I would rather die with them as I expected to, but I'm in your debt. So I'll help you out as a favor before doing so." Bittersweet voice accompanied her frown as she stepped aside, adjusting the cloak and tugging from the collar of her tattered shirt.

"You are an idiot and a madwoman for coming all the way here, but... I am grateful that was the case." Fiora added, her features softening a little, yet peace being far from present on them at the moment. Just a stare to the resting place of these two had her resolve faltering. "So, what do you want from me exactly? Do you... Need help escaping Vintergard?" A hand clasped over her shoulder, cracking it as she prepared to stretch her bones and limbs again for a walk.

' Awaken you' Is what she can remember the blonde said her mission was, and yet what sense did this all make..? Even if that were the case, why did you take so fucking long...

@Stranger

 

[Luthien]

It was hard work to complete her task despite the progress that Fiora had already achieved with the graves, but she committed to it without complaint. Silence reigned between them, the shifting dirt and quiet sobs being the only sounds to tickle their ears, and it’s only halfway through it all that Lúthien realized the the melancholic notes of the piano and violin had faded away too.

With the last grave finally completed the blonde takes a step back to offer Fiora space and privacy. While this place is nothing more than a nightmare the emotions felt within are no different from any other place, raw feelings that claw at their insides without compassion. If the greenette is ever to believe Lúthien’s words she first needs to grieve and loosen her grasp on this hellish dreamscape… they both do, but the blonde is far from being a qualified guide.

Her expertise lies in bottling and burying feelings and worries deeply as possible until they’re mostly forgotten, not sitting with and processing them in a healthy manner.

Fiora’s voice snapped the elf out of her thoughts and, while her words aren’t exactly the ones she’d hoped to hear, Lúthien can’t help but smile lightly upon hearing the opinion the greenette currently has about her. "Aren’t we all?" They had to be considering each and everyone of them constantly logged into this game on a nearly daily basis, choosing to ignore the dangers that lurked within the surface or the warnings provided by others.

"Yeah, we're escaping… but not just from Vintergard." She can see the other still doesn’t believe her words, though Lúthien can’t fault her for it—she wasn’t a stranger when it came to falling for the spell of dreams, especially those as realistic as this one. "Before that there’s still one more thing to take care of, though."

Crimson eyes shift away from Fiora’s gaze and towards the four arrows embedded into the flesh of her friend, the wounds healed to the very edge of the familiar dark oak shaft. She already knows Fiora will not allow her to finish her treatment, but she can still offer some relief and freedom to the greenette. "H-Hold still." Her voice waivers for a moment as a verdant glow gathers around her hand, before the ranger steels her resolve while stepping closer to Fiora. A flick of her fingers causes a sharp gust to emanate, the concentrated magic manifesting in the shape of a crescent moon that slices through the wood with ease before dissipating into the fog.

"There’s no telling what exactly might be lurking inside this nightmare of yours," She repeats the action three more times as most of the arrows now clatter onto the ground, only the unseen steel arrowheads and an inch or two of oak left buried deep into the flesh of her friend. "And you won’t let me heal these… so this is the next best thing."

She’s sure that Fiora would’ve taken care of the problem herself if Lúthien had pointed it out, but that would’ve undoubtedly lead to Fiora’s wounds reopening in the process and the blonde wasn’t about to let her friend ruin what little respite she had been able to offer to the greenette’s tattered body. "Now for the real problem…"

The teacup had been lingering at the edge of her periphery for a while now, finally eliciting a heavy sigh from the elf before she walked towards it. Her mistrust of the object and its contents hasn’t changed, evident when the steel toe edge of her boot carefully tilts it over—spilling the green tea onto the unsettling ground beneath. "Any chance that Camp Hope exits within this world of yours, Fio?"

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

So far she had abstained herself from even muttering the magia's name. It made her aware of all that she had lost. The regret, even now, made her eye tear despite focusing only on the blonde infront of her, a pain she wished to keep buried beneath a stone-like expression.

"Yeah..." Losing herself in thought, her concentration returning as that strange insinuation returned- The one that they were yet within a dream, that this was far from the truth. Conflicted, she urged for silence instead, confusion being the next to follow as per usual whenever this woman spoke. "Something to take care of..?-" She took the bait, revealing itself once they vowed for her stillness, following these crimson orbs all the way down to herself, and to the dark arrows skewering her.

As her fellow elf called for magic, Fiora gulped down, nodding once before holding her breath and awaiting until the shafts were sliced clean by wind, leaving a sigh as soon as the last arrow drops on the ground. "These arrows are a reminder. It's a personal matter, really, but I can't think of a better way to concentrate on what I have to do." She scratched her cheek. The plan really changed compared to what she originally wanted, but... "-This is good though, don't want them getting on the way. Throwing a punch sure will hurt." Opening and closing her fists proved enough to her: There's something missing... Something she can't quite put a finger on.

It feels too bland to be her grip.

"Stop, before we move out,I want you to tell me why you act like you don't belong here. Who are you, even?" It irritated her, moreso because of the implications this woman made whenever she worded this as a 'different world'. "You expect me to believe this is all a dream just because? I can't even be sure you are real and not just my brain rotting away," She squinted, walking closer to the blonde, sending her hands straight to her face, in an attempt to squish and pinch her cheeks. "Your face is pretty real I suppose..." Confirmation that made it sound like a science rather than just some playful prank, yet that's why she pulled up such a serious tone when doing so. "Well, real or not I guess I got something to do other than wait until I bite the dust."

Fiora glanced up to the skies, as nothing seemed to be making sense, and yet the fragments of the dragon ship scattered across granted her some semblance of guidance- It's what she's been guiding herself with her whole time here. Some of these were static, and thus worked as marks.

"...Camp Hope's west from here, probably I'm a bit off, but it should be over here." She pointed over to their right. Nothing seemed to await for them at the distance, as the mist coated made visibility a problem not even magic seemed to pierce through. "I'm not sure if it's still standing, but there should be some survivors, if they didn't get wiped out by the Ifritgears already." She shrugged, as this fate was all their problem. Yet the look on this blonde's eyes make her believe it would soon be their own, too.

@Stranger

 

[Luthien]

She had expected some form of resistance, knowing how stubborn Fiora could actually be, so the blonde couldn’t help the faint look of surprise on her face as the last arrow fell to the ground. She still disliked the fact that those steel heads were embedded deep into her friend’s flesh, but she knew better than to try and wrestle Fiora on the matter—not with the seriousness the greenette expressed on her face as she spoke.

"Someone’s gonna hurt alright after one of your punches, probably whoever’s on the receiving end of it." She can’t help a faint chuckle despite the situation they’re currently in. "Ari’s already had a taste of them in-game, and I trust his verdict on it."

It doesn’t take long before the elephant in the room is brought front and center, a narrowed golden eye keeping Lúthien in place as the greenette expresses her grievances on the situation.

"I’m…" Hesitation keeps her from answering the first question tossed her way, afraid that her own name might trigger a worse reaction than when she’d mentioned Ronja’s not that long ago. "Look, even if I was a byproduct of brain rot—and I’m not—it’s not like there’s anything left to lose here by trusting me, right?"

Instead she deflects towards the next point of contention, her face resolute even as the taller elf steps closer before reaching out for the blonde. "Oww, yat hertz Zio…" It’s hard to properly enunciate her words when her friend is pinching and squishing her cheeks, but Lúthien offers no resistance aside from a verbal complaint—if this was enough to dissuade some of Fiora’s concerns then it was good enough for the elf.

"Exaaactly~" Finally the greenette begins to agree with the option provided by the blonde, a cheeky grin adorning her lips from the small victory. "Besides sitting on your ass and waiting for the world to chew you out has never been your style."

Part of her hopes the optimistic outlook on things will help Fiora—the real one that is—to regain her senses, though it’s not the only reason for her demeanor. It’s easy to forget one’s in a dream when they’re as real and vivid as this one, not too different from the escape TerraSphere offers them from the real world they live in, and she wants to avoid being sucked into the narrative of this nightmare.

"Mmm, that is a bit far…" Although their surroundings are different from the ones she’s accustomed to seeing in Vintergard while exploring its ruins alongside Ronja she can still pick up some of the familiar markers they’ve used before to make their way through it. The camp is simply a whim of hers, perhaps hoping beyond hope that its namesake can prove to be a way out of this dreamspace for the pair of elves. "I guess it’s worth a shot though—I’m sorry, the what now?"

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

Fiora rised a hand to try and stop the blonde before she could add anything else, as her own nerves were struck like cords on a guitar. "Get in my shoes for a moment, and think if you'd really like to hear a person you don't know a single thing about talk as if they knew every detail about your life outside of the game." A frown nestled on her face, as she had to address this willy-nilly attitude the blonde had, if only to keep her away from stepping in landmines, be it now or with someone else.

The worst were their explanations, worthy of sighing at as Fiora rubbed her temples. "You are terrible with words..." It was almost laughable, even if none of the sort would ever get out of her system. They could assume she lost all reason to live, everything she cared for, and the one thing this blonde says to prove her innocence is 'you got nothing to lose by trusting me'. Yet the lack of heart or filter caused nothing on her. She's right, afterall: She's got nothing left to lose.

"I feel you gonna rot my brain before the fever does." Concluding her face-inspection on her new imaginary friend, Fiora casually waved against these compliments. "I don't have anyone left to care for, so this is the one case I rather pass away. It's not as sad as it sounds." She tried to reason it. Truly, what else could she do..?

But alas, they had wasted enough time, and instead, waved for the blonde to tag along as they begun their little adventure through the demonic wasteland, dirt becoming a desert. The worst would be the tiresome dunes to climb, the sand getting in their shoes, and the fact the red mist leaves little for them to see, or for Fiora to show the blonde.

"It's how the surviving MIT people dubbed the things lurking here. Apparently the magia were affected by the red fever, becoming... Well, fleshier." She explained. It was safe to say, these were nightmares incarnate given their status. "Now we have two types of Magia: Those affected by Dissonance, and those by the Red Fever, and apparently the latter went rogue from Szofrit's control and stablished their own little 'group'. Only thing you need to know is they want to kill us as much as everything else here." She coughed by the end of it, clearing her throat as one hand went to hold her chest.

"I don't think I've seen your face in Tangleweaves, but let me tell you: You don't want to fight with a demon bug, and less so with a demon killer robot."

@Imaginary Friend

 

[Luthien]

"Okay, fair. Think of me as your fairy godmother then," She held her hands up as Fiora tore into her a bit, a nervous chuckle escaping from her lips though Lúthien couldn’t deny the logic behind those words. "Here to guide you out of the hellish landscape your subconscious conjured up when you went to bed."

A long stretch really, but the blonde felt her chances were better with it rather than actually giving her name to Fiora. After all, terrible as this place might be, this place belonged to the greenette and no one else. Sure lucid dreams were pretty fantastic when done right, but there was nothing worse—in her experience at least—when they fell off the tracks and into the nightmare territory IRL… and Lúthien wasn’t keen on discovering how much worse that could be within the confines of TerraSphere.

"That’s cute..." It’s impossible to contain the sarcasm that heavily drips from her voice as Fiora enlightens her on the projects MIT had been working on within this nightmare, before a shiver crossed her spine upon realizing it wasn’t such a farfetched thought that couldn’t occur within their main reality.

It wouldn’t be the first time those nerds pulled some sussy shit out of their lab coats, though—for all of their sakes—Lúthien hoped the vast distance between Vintergard and the Tangleweaves somehow prevented them from combining elements of the two. "They basically turned Vintergard into fucking Australia, with some magitech powered demon fungi sprinkled in for flavor."

The sigh that leaves her lips is the longest one yet, a hand raised to pinch the bridge of her nose as Lúthien takes a second to process the newfound knowledge. It finally flickers into the air as curiosity gets the best of her, before crimson eyes widen in surprise upon seeing the familiar UI materialize. "That’s… convenient." Tapping through her inventory reveals the basics expected for a ranger to be present, though there’s many personal items that are nowhere to be found.

"Yeah, I’ve heard the horror stories from Red Fever. Nasty things really," She’d counted herself lucky for having joined right after that “tutorial”, as Yugam had thought of it at first, had ended. "And now they've been pumped full of magia steroids for the perfect nightmare."

Her last words pepper off into a slight cough before the elf is trying to clear her throat, trying to clear the faint itchiness that has begun to set in as she continues to breathe the smog around them. At least the grainy texture of the demonic wasteland felt familiar under her boots, glad to finally be away from the fungi-covered soil she’d first found herself standing on.

With Fiora leading the way she’s left with the task of keeping tabs on their surroundings, and it's a job the elf takes seriously despite the disadvantageous circumstances. At some point during their travels a new thought pops into her mind before the blonde decided to humor it, concentrating in the same way she’d done so back in the real battle of Vintergard as she attempts to extend her consciousness like a safety net around the pair… hoping to catch any blips out of their limited vision and range of hearing that can help them avoid an unfavorable encounter.

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

???.
Dream's Second Layer:
Vintergard - Crimson Wasteland.

She paused, letting her silence contrast with her tense chuckles. "...No, no I don't think so. I'll call you 'Blonde' and pretend you are just a part of my brain." If there were any doubts, the monotone expression should be sealing the deal. Couldn't just leave this stranger as 'Stranger', less so when they were wandering through Vintergard by themselves.

As 'Blonde' recalled her own stories of past events, Fiora noded as she made obvious how undesirable it sounded to have MIT toy around with infected magias, let alone either of these separately, with her own conclusions being all too difficult for the greenette to shove aside. "No clue. I would be the first to point fingers and blame MIT, but I would need proof in the first place. Besides, whatever exploded and caused this affected both us and Szofrit's forces." Yet she couldn't hide the distrust that statement alone brought. If anyone would be ready to pull the trigger and genocide indiscriminately for their own sake, that would be MIT. "To make matters worse, the Ynglar folk are poking their noses around."

As Blonde begun to cough, Fiora's arms tensed up, quickly making an U turn to face the ranger and stop her on her tracks before unclipping her large cloak, and instead wrapping it around Blonde's neck, making sure to cover her mouth with it. "I built some resistance to the Fever's mood swings, but I'm still infected, and it's different to the last time." Carefully clipping the brooch, Fiora dusted off the ranger's shoulders, humming in approval. "The air's bad, so try not to breathe too much of it if you can afford it."

Past the dunes, the mist would die off enough to get a better view of where they are heading towards, yet the sights it revealed were almost as undesirable: Fragments of the Dragonship were scattered all over the landscape, alongside gigantic, crimson bones from fallen monstrosities, with flesh hanging from each of them, representing a prey or predator whose fallen to something bigger. The skies were black as death, with a hue that followed upon the unholy maroon theme the rest of the world seemed to have.

Yet it's the dreadful silence what kills one's hopes. There is a melancholic and depressive aura to the land. No longer the booming warzone filled with magia and Starcalled alike, these were the remnants of a war that didn't end in favour of either-side. Reality didn't compare to this dream, and yet, it's the chilling realization that this is a possible outcome what makes it all more real to the mind. From the slow winds, to the crooked rocks and the ever so elusive critter dancing through the dunes, nothing but broken dreams awaited them.

Yet Luthien would catch something else instead of a presence, both now and ever since they set upon this new path: Something watches over them. Around every corner, and seems to always be behind them, yet this looming presence doesn't merely stalk-- It's racing towards them, like a shadow taking over where once there was light.

A shiver warned her of the consequences this path she chose had, of the ardous journey to come ever since that cup of tea melted into the earth along it's contents a few minutes ago...

"Hey... HEY! how you holding up?" Fiora called out behind her.

Somehow she had gone ahead of Luthien, as if time had simply vanished once they begun to walk. Worst of all is how there was no recollection of them having traversed this close towards a cliff, let alone begun to climb it to reach the top. It would feel as if the memories of such were just removed from the Ranger's head.

"We've been walking for a while now, I hope you are not getting sick already. Come, I can see Camp Hope from here." She dropped prone, stretching a hand down for the ranger to catch in order to help her climb back up.

@Blonde

 

[Luthien]

"Yeah, ‘Blonde’ sounds more like you anyways… and Fairy Godmom is a mouthful anyways." Just like that the matter is settled between them, that same cheeky grin given to Fiora before she followed the lead of the taller elf through the crimson wastelands.

She’s surprised to hear about a sensible side of the greenette when she admits lacking the necessary evidence to pin all of this misfortune to the nerds in MIT. With Ronja gone in this nightmare to the hands of the red fever, the magia, or perhaps both… she had expected the greenette to resemble the Fiora she’d become more recently acquainted with out of this nightmare, instead of the Nico that she’d known what now felt like an eternity ago.

"The Ynglar…?" Brows furrowed as the familiar sounding name tickled her ears, repeated in the hopes that it would spark a connection between the neurons inside her mind. She has a loose memory of a red desert similar to this one, although Redchron lacked the unsettling desolation found within these wastelands, and the headquarters of some organization or another that had resided there.

"O-Oh...!" Another slight cough escaped her throat, before the unexpected swooshing sound of fabric against the wind caught Lúthien’s attention. The surprise in her face is almost palpable as Fiora takes the time to safely secure her tattered cloak around the smaller elf, taking extra care to ensure her nose and mouth are properly covered against the thick fog that permeates all around them. "T-Thanks, Nico."

The unexpected kindness triggered an ache inside her chest that the blonde couldn't get rid of, a hand carefully wrapping against the rough fabric and holding it tightly as they continued walking. It reminds Lúthien of how broken their friendship had become, and how much she missed the kinder Fiora she’d adventured with in the past.

To make matters worse there’s a lingering presence that continues to edge that the outskirts of her mind range, always successfully ducking out of view whenever the elf tries to spot it—as if it was as aware of Lúthien as she was of it. It’s unsettling at best, doubly so when the faint realization comes that it’s been gaining ground on them little by little, and an unwelcome distraction as the elf continues to struggle on finding a way out of this dream.

Motherfuck…! It doesn’t matter how many times she has tried, the answer always comes to be the same one regardless of Lúthien’s attempts—the only golden thread, faint as it was, leading her towards the only other living being within this nightmare: Fiora. Her teeth quietly gnaw against the inside of her cheek as uncertainty settles in, the worry that she might’ve chosen wrong yet again impossible to shake off as they walk—

"Hey... HEY! How you holding up?" She’s snapped out of her thoughts as a hand comes into focus just inches in front of her nose, perplexed upon finding herself gripping the reddened edges of rocks and roots that are quite the distance apart from the solid ground down below. "Y-Yeah, I’m fine… j-just thought I sensed something, but it’s all good!"

Try as she might, Lúthien can’t remember what had transpired since the last point her mind remembers… and while she does her best to cover up the panic in her voice a small part still managed to trickle through. Her hand safely clasps the one offered by Fiora, allowing the greenette to help her up the rest of the way, before a wary glance is given back in the direction they’ve been walking from all this time.

We need to get out of here… So far things have gone in their favor, but there’s no telling for how long their luck will hold out against the horrors lurking within this nightmare. ... I need to find a way to wake Nico up soon.

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

It didn't surprise her in the least that Blonde knew nothing of Ynglar, or couldn't quite pinpoint it: They were a secretive bunch, and most of what the people know is superficial at best. "A very convenient bunch who take payment in whatever magic they find in the middle of a crisis, in exchange of either solving it or keeping everyone else safe." The suspicion in her voice let itself known. "They are no better than MIT, but I sincerely doubt they were the cause of all this. They look like the sort that likes control, and the red fever is way beyond that." She shrugged it off, it was irrelevant by now, given how out of reach all had become.

"Don't thank me yet." Fiora nodded, turning back to the road. She would need to find something better for Blonde to protect herself, but that old rag was better than nothing. "It won't guarantee anything, but it should help for the time being. Maybe they have something in Camp Hope you can use." Being the last hot spot for the three factions stationed within Vintergard, it only seemed plausible for the survivors to be well equipped, or have designed anything remotely close to the concept.

The shift within the sands and the landscape was noticeable: They had walked for an hour or so. Even when Luthien turned around, she could see their footprints, feel the itch on her legs and the exhaustation that came with their travels. It wasn't mere teleportation, or an adjust within the dreamscape like when she crossed door n°11.

With a yank from her hand, Fiora pulled Blonde closer and away from the edge, falling on one knee and urging the ranger to do the same as she pointed out infront of them, where wrecked walls were erected and the doors to Camp Hope remained open. "There it is. Or... What remains of it." The greener pastures were replaced by a dull, dead crimson, the sand growing high enough to bury a quarter of the camp on it. Some of it's buildings were scattered through the airs, impaled by large fungi as the flora and fauna turned hostile. The many mushrooms brewing from the center of the camp, the most visible objects at this distance given it's feverish green glow, seemed to spread a pestilence. A mist unlike that which they faced so far, yet just as undesirable given it's colour and potential taint, like most of the nature they have seen thus far within this hellish landscape.

And worst of all... Not a single soul seemed to be in sight, her concern growing exponentially the longer her silence went. "Something's not right, but It doesn't look like the Ifrits been there. It would be crawling full of these things if that were the case." A hand rubbed across her chin, turning back to look at Blonde with a smirk on her face. "Let's go, if we are lucky there's something to loot and monsters to kill. I'm bored of walking anyways." She didn't wait for a yes or no. There would be none of that as she pushed her hands onto the ranger to lift her off the ground-

"Hope you like thrill rides." A dead tone, for what amounts to a playful remark.

And jumping off the little cliff they had climbed with little to no warning, letting her feet slide over the rocky surface for a moment. Flames begun to wrap across her legs and feet, leaving a trail on it's wake, before suddently jumping forward, propelling them a good distance in the air before finally landing near one of the bent walls protecting the camp. The distance wasn't that much that they couldn't just walk there.

But to be fair, the faster she could get her fist through a magia's skull, the better. Killing was terrifyingly therapeutic within Terrasphere.

@Blonde

 

[Luthien]

"Damn, sounds like no one was prepared for any of this…" Unsurprisingly so, after all from what Lúthien had heard Red Fever had been of a similar vibe… and Vintergard hadn’t been any better in their reality either. Events that really highlighted how little any of them—starcalled and landers alike—knew of this world and the dangers that lurked within it.

She could only hope their actions would yield a different result from the nightmare that Nico was currently sharing with her. Knowledge was power… though the reckless abuse of it could very well lead to a fate even worse than this one.

The tracks are there, visible evidence that they’ve indeed been walking for a long time—perhaps an hour or more if the way her muscles complain is any indication—but the fact that she can’t remember most of it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. "Honestly, I’m surprised the camp is still standing… o-oh."

Shock colors her voice as the blonde stares at what remains of Camp Hope, barely recognizable now as a vast variety of fungi have taken over most areas. The wastelands around them were nothing compared to the current state of the settlement and, despite some less than desirable events she’d experienced within it, her heart still aches upon seeing its current state.

Could anything useful still be left within that space… or was coming here just another mistake for Lúthien to add to the ever growing pile that was her life?

"Hope you like thrill rides."
"Huh—!?!"

It's only then that she feels the touch of Fiora as the greenette lifts her off the ground, but before Lúthien can figure out what those words meant they’re suddenly rushing down the other side of the cliff they’d worked so hard to climb up to. A surprised squeal escaped before her hands clasp over her mouth to contain it, watching instead as flames begin to lick around the legs of her friend as Fiora glides over the rocky surface with ease.

{ Shouldn’t we form a plan before going in?! } This is reckless at best, and suicidal in the worst case scenario.

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

As they finally landed, Fiora bent over a little to put Blonde back down on her feet. "Like I said, all I remember is something falling on the skies and exploding across the battlefield. We had no chance to defend ourselves." Even surviving the initial shockwave was a miracle on it's own, even if the destiny that awaited wasn't exactly appealing for any of the 'fortunate' ones.

Rolling her shoulders, a hand rested over her nape as she twisted her neck a little until a crack! could be heard from her bones. "I know that face..." She paused, her lips pursing before she could let a lie slip through. No, she couldn't call her a friend, that would make her a hypocrite. "A person I knew used to do it plenty. Don't think too hard on what's out of your control. Focus on what you can. For instance..."

She glanced up and above to the walls. The watchtowers were all but torn down, and yet the wall was thick enough for one as nimble-looking as Blonde to use them as ground for a vantage point. "How about I give you a lift up the wall and check out what's in there? I'll go through the front gate and work as the bait in case all fails." Fiora proposed. Now that the fun bullrushing had ended, it seemed right to create a proper strategy before going hack & slash into unknown grounds.

"I'm open to suggestions though, you are the one with a handful of eyes." Something she didn't envy, but depth was greatly missed ever since she was down to her right eye. "But as far as I could tell, the coasts are clear. We could try a stealth approach, but really, besides some loot, I doubt we'd find anything pretty in there, and it's starting to get dark." Concern growing in her voice, as that was something she absolutely did not want to face in the open with Blonde here.

@Blonde

 

[Luthien]

So this is what being a duffle bag felt like… shaky feet were glad to have solid ground beneath them once more as the greenette loosened her grip on her, a relieved sigh escaping her lips as she listened to Fiora. "True… it’s hard to prepare when you’re blindsided." She didn’t know how long it had taken for Vintergard to become this abandoned wasteland, but just on looks alone it was easy to tell what wrecked them had been on a larger magnitude than anything the blonde had seen in this game to date.

She could only hope such a thing never came to pass out of this forsaken nightmare—"I know that face..."

"¿Qué?" She should really stop spacing out like this, but there was just so much for Lúthien to think about and process that sometimes it was hard to keep her mind focused on the stuff in front of her. "Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right… oh."

Her gaze trails over to the watchtower and the thick wall around them, an idea sparking within those crimson eyes just as Fiora details out her plan. She can’t help the grin that tugs at her lips as their thoughts quickly align, a feeling that the blonde wasn’t aware she missed so until now, before Lúthien gives a thumbs up in agreement.

"Let’s do that… but don’t rush in carelessly okay?" There’s a seriousness to her voice that hadn’t been there before, she knows how reckless the Fiora of her world could be… but she had a feeling the greenette beside her could easily transcend any and all expectations. A hand reaches for one of the other, giving it a light squeeze. "Not if we have the option to fall back and try again."

After all she’s promised to help wake her up from this nightmare, that’s hard to do if the greenette bites it before then… but Fiora’s already suffered enough, she doesn’t wish to see her friend in any more pain if it can be avoided.

"Hah, you’d be surprised of the things I can miss even though I have two of ‘em." Sure, she’s good at picking up targets from a distance, but Lúthien’s lost track of the amount of times she’s failed to notice obvious things even when they’re placed in front of her nose. "I don’t like how quiet it is though, that’s never good… but here’s hoping you’re right and we can find a safe place to hole up for the night."

Fiora has yet to regale her with whatever happenings occur once the sun sets in the horizon, but it’s not like the elf needs her friend to think up of the worst case scenarios. She’s played plenty of games, and seen plenty of horror movies, to know neither of them should be out in the open when the daylight fades.

"Let’s go."

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

Fiora folded her arms against her chest as spanish gibberish escaped from the Blonde, giving her a moment just to get these thoughts organized and their little plan processed, her hands falling one on top of the other as she prepared to give the other a lift-

A sigh formed on her lips as her ears picked up the severity with which Blonde here made vocal her concerns once again. Far from misguided, yet there were reasons to be laid back. "I'm trusting you with things from this side, capiche? Focus on your targets, not me. You gonna have the advantage up there, and I'll make sure it stays that way." She had a hunch tell her to trust that much on a stranger, and if logic complains: this elf made it all the way through the wastelands without dying, so that's a feat enough on her skills. "Now, up you go." She piled her hands together, squatting down a little to help Luthien reach the wall with her hands serving as stepping stone and launch pad for the ranger.

Waiting a little just to make sure miss. perfect didn't break a nail on the way up, Fiora took off towards the front gates. Stepping in felt like a red flag on it's own, as there didn't seem to be a single soul aware of their presence. No movement coming through the broken windows nor the corners where shadows could hide monsters best, and yet nothing seemed out of the ordinary, beyond what they both have faced thus far.

"It doesn't even smell like death..." Fiora noted, keeping her steps towards the center where the enigmatic mushrooms were. The hints of something going off were clear:

The cracks beneath her feet, stretching all across the center of Camp Hope, and clearly visible from Blonde's perspective-

And the crunching sound beneath her that froze her lungs in place, holding her breath in. Peering down, the floor was beginning to collapse the way a frozen lake tears open. Slow but surely, until it happens in an instant and everything gets swallowed by water. Which, chances are, would not be happening in Fiora's case.

"Blonde! Can you come over?!" She shouted, the urgency in her tone tried to warn her something was off, turning back to glance up at the ranger. "Fast if you can... And with something for me to hang onto." Glued like a statue, her arms slowly rised above her head. The earth replied with a furious tearing sound, as something crashed onto the depths beneath the camp, the mushrooms and the floor beneath them gone into the pitch darkness.

@Stranger

 

[Luthien]

A nod was given before the elf took a few steps back, giving Fiora enough time to get into position as her eyes gaged the distance between the ground and the top of the wall. Tall, as walls were meant to be, but nothing the blonde felt she couldn’t clear with Fiora’s boost. "You ready? One… Two… Go!"

Measured steps ensured her boot stepped right in the middle of the greenette’s palm, guaranteeing her elven friend vaulted the ranger as high as possible with her strength. A couple of twirls in the air were soon followed by a perfect landing, before the blonde quickly crouched down atop the wall to avoid gathering any unwanted attention as she took in the view from this new vantage point.

{ Looks empty… } She was careful to keep her mental web casted outwards, moreso now that she would be at a considerable distance from Fiora. { … and quiet. Too quiet, if you ask me. }

Hands flickered through the air as she accessed the available UI within this dreamscape, a familiar bow and a quiver full of arrows materializing shortly after. The latter was quickly strapped around her waist, making sure it was at the proper level and secure, before she held the bow steadily on her left hand.

I hope this nightmare never comes to pass. It hurt to see the current state of the camp she had so many memories in, even if some were less desirable than others. Part of Lúthien had to actively remind herself this was simply a dream and not reality; this was not a future she wished to bring Meri back into, or one she wished to share with those dear and close to the blonde.

The cracks that spread from the middle of the camp were almost impossible to miss as the ranger began to move along the wall, a small gasp escaping her lips before a whispered sound tickled her ears. She stopped moving altogether then, eyes closed as she strained to pinpoint the source of the soft gnashing that threatened to elude her—

{ FIO! } Realization dawned on the elf as her eyes focused back on the cracks once more, finally able to discern that the noise she’d been picking up was the crumbling soil on which Camp Hope had been constructed. "Blonde! Can you come over?!"

It was clear that Fiora had noticed it too, a sharp "Comin’" shouted back as the ranger slung the bow onto her back and ran in her direction. Her fingers haphazardly danced through the air once more, trying to control her UI at the same time but lacking the usual dexterity since the items within were out of the usual order Lúthien kept them within her inventory.

"Shit—!" It was then she realized her steps had strayed too close to the border as her gaze had been focused on the UI, the arm facing the abyss quickly shooting out before a gust of verdant wind exploded from the girl’s open palm. It was enough to cancel her momentum as Lúthien fell back on her ass, a loud groan heralding the appearance of a rope as it materialized from her UI, before the blonde was quickly back on her feet and closing the remaining distance.

"Fio catch!!!" Her left hand tightly gripped one end of the rope, twirled around her arms a few times to prevent Lúthien from losing her grip on it easily, while her dominant arm chucked the rest of the rope towards Fiora.

@Fiora Di Angelo

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

Having seen Blonde pull circus acrobat moves reminded herself of her unburdened body. It would make it easier for her to get out of a pickle with less weight, even if the lack of armor wasn't exactly something to cheer for.

The echo of Blonde's voice in her head also brought forth memories, despite her face remaining stoic. It has been quite some time since she used that ability elves prided themselves over. It also rattled her brain a little when metaphysical shouts from the very same ranger as a warning doubled down on what her ear picked up; Now she thanked her lack of steel plate, given every ounce of weight mattered here.

"Come on..." Resignation flooded her voice, almost wishing to just drop with the rest of the rocks, solely out of spite for her own luck that kept bending backwards whenever a coin toss was called for her fate. Fortune smiled, however, as she tilted her head to glance over and notice how lady blonde had fallen on her royal derriere, recovering just as quick from her hasty accident to bring out a rope.

"Fio catch!!!" Woosh went the rope.

And she jumped, that very moment causing the rest of the floor to collapse entirely as she clinged on it, bracing for impact against the rocky formations of the new-found hole. Yet it wasn't the echoing sound of stone smashing against the depths of the hole what haunted her the most, but the unholy, mechanical shrieks that followed...

Plural rather than singular, and the many red eyes and crimson flames that illuminated what seemed to be an inner sanctum. The distance would make it hard to make out what was happening other than the faint view of a statue and the many monstrosities beneath, some more insect than humanoid, yet all sharing the same patterns of red. And most importantly:

They were all staring upwards, where the avalanche came from that broke through many of their kind, despite being only but a fistful in proportion.

{ …Blonde, now's a good time to show me you got muscle. }

Holding still on the rope, Fiora awaited to gain just enough height to help herself out, with far more hurry than not given the new-found inspiration they both would have right now to get their asses clean out of the spotlight that is the middle of Camp Hope...

Last minute Call

Everyone in the group must roll a Mastery Check, Flavouring it appropiately to either flee or hide depending on what the group agrees on. Based on the option taken, and how much of the objective was filled (Or completed), a different event will occur.

Objective

[ 0/??? ]

@Blonde

 

[Luthien]

225 / 225

  Explorers League    ∙ ∙

 ​

"Oh shit, oh fuck, ¡¿qué carajos es eso?!"
Attempting to hide from all that fucking bullshit...

The full weight of another certainly took a toll on the lithe ranger, her feet sliding forwards on the floor as Lúthien struggled to hold onto the greenette—until the heel of her boots finally found purchase against some raised bricks. "Hnnng...!" She refused to give up though, her hands glowing with a faint purple sheen that soon traveled down the braided fibers before wrapping around Fiora.

The unconscious use of magic managed to negate most of the weight of Fiora as the blonde quickly began to pull the other towards safety, unaware of the glow emitted by the enchanted moonstone safely nestled in her choker. "Get up here fast!" A hissed whisper left her lips as one hand reached for the greenette, offering her assistance as she pulled Fiora quickly towards the floor—and hopefully out of view of whatever had laid in wait underneath the soil of Camp Hope.

She’d only caught a glimpse of them, though it had been enough to send a shiver up the ranger’s spine, but their presence hadn’t gone unnoticed against the keen hearing of her ears. Each mechanical tick and shriek emitted by them only spelled bad news for the girls, and it was unsettling how insectoid some of their movements and cries could be. "Hide… we need to hide!"

Her gaze quickly swept over the available area at the top of the wall, the option of fleeing completely disregarded after one look towards the barren red wastelands they had traversed. Although the glow in her hands had long since faded it had remained within those crimson pupils, the magic heightening Lúthien’s senses as faint images flickered in and out with every blink—a myriad of possibilities displayed and quickly assessed by the elf as her hand gripped Fiora’s tightly.

"There!" One of them seemed to win against the others as the blonde pointed to a particular spot, already on the move and tugging the greenette along as her grip refused to let go of her friend. A crumbled part in the wall offered access to what Lúthien could only hope was a safe place to hide, and the ranger quietly sent a silent prayer to the Alfather as they dove towards it.

"Please tell m-me… t-that you know…" Her words came within ragged breaths as the blonde finally released her grip on Fiora’s hand, unaware of the blood that trickled down her nose as the otherworldly light faded from her eyes. "What the f-fuck… those t-things are…!"

Her steps took her closer to a hole on the wall, the gap offering enough of a vantage point for the elf to silently take a peek outside and see what was happening. Every inch of her was on high alert as fight-or-flight kicked in along with a boost of adrenaline, her ears attentive to any sound—no matter how small they might be—while her hands and feet remained sensitive to any tremors and vibrations that could accompany the movement of those creatures.

---

❰ Player Sheet ❱

❰ Last Minute Call ❱
1d100 (65) + 25 + 10 = 100
+10 from Fallen Tag Astramancy | Luthien | Hearth

❰ Knack Check: The Bullshit ❱
1d100 (19) + 25 = 44
Knack | Luthien | Hearth

❰ Failure... probably? ❱
Dream!Fio you better roll good on Last Minute Call... :')

 

 

[Fiora Di Angelo]

300 / 300

  Unaffiliated

∙ ∙

 ​

Hasta Luego

The situation looked the least favourable given the ranger had skipped arm and leg day lately, at least until she begun to work smart rather than hard and begun to apply magic into the equation, her eye taking great notice as that purple hue danced around her body. The effects were instantaneous, as in one quick swoop Blonde compensated what she lacked in muscle.

Rolling once, the elf found herself flat against the dirt. Her gasps for air reminded her of the arrowheads with each mouthful painfully stinging at her sides. putting her at edge helped with pulling herself together, specially as her thoughts and blonde's connected to flee rather than fight.

Stumbling along at first at the sudden yank from Blonde's hand, Fiora was quick to pick up the pace as she finally caught up to where the ranger aimed for, rolling along her to get beneath the wall and make it inside one of the buildings within the camp that were left standing.

Fiora parted her lips, and just like that clenched down her teeth, wrapping a hand around Blonde's mouth and the other on her own to avoid involuntary reactions, specially given their ears were the first to pick up the light-footed pedipalps, the chittering, and the way one of the doors cracked open and close. Leaning closer to the ranger as to make themselves a smaller target on this twisted hide & seek game, and make use of the fallen table next to them that worked as cover.

{ Let him pass. }

She couldn't even nod, as every fiber of her body turned solid, sweat running down her forehead as she held onto her breath as long as possible.

Even when kept out of sight, the clacking pincers snapped like a killer taunting it's victims. It was dangerously close, enough to make one question if it had seen them or not, and yet trying to peek was out of the question now. Covering one's nose became instinctual as the feverish, pungent scent assaulted them head-on, another element against them in their 'game'. One tap against the ground followed a mechanical stomp as the cyborg insectoid turned about to leave with an unsatisfied chittering following on it's wake as it stormed outside once again, and the door snapped close.

Even then, she just didn't dare to come out until a few painful seconds later, carefully lowering her hands and gesturing behind her to get some distance from the hole itself.

{ ifritgears that are more bug than magia. We only know they form colonies and have some form of theology. Don't ask me what, no one can tell what the statues are supposed to represent. }

A quiet sigh broke through her lips, reaching out to scratch her temples as she tried to ease herself down, yet her heart didn't want to stop racing, and her sword-arm unconciously hovered closer to where her sword's empty holster rests at.

{ This explains why we found no bodies. Bet they are getting ready to sacrifice the poor bastards left. } If one thing she could commend, was how effective these Ifritgears were: Not a single thing goes to waste. Organic or not, there was always some way to grant them use for their purposes.

Fiora then begun to assess their surroundings. The kitchen seemed to still stand, with ductape, hopes and dreams for the most, given the wear and tear the structure too. It would mean they are one door away from the communal dining room, yet the biggest problem were the many roots and vines forming across the ground, similar to that of the wasteland. They crawled over the walls, the ceiling, and about anywhere they could intrude around or through.

The lack of windows gave her the 'go-to' she wanted to stand up and crack her back, offering a hand over to Blonde.

{ Regretting the adventure just yet? }

---

❰ ❰ Player Sheet ❱

❰ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 ❱
2d100 (Advantage) (97, 66) + 25 = 122
Pyromancy | Fiora Di Angelo | Hearth

 

[Luthien]

225 / 225

  Explorers League    ∙ ∙

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A sharp inhale filled her lungs when she felt the yank of another, before a rough hand tightly wrapped around Lúthien’s mouth and muffled whatever surprised sound she’d been about to release. The initial tension on her shoulders soon gave way as the ranger visually confirmed it was Fiora and not some nightmare abomination, before the rattling of a nearby door made the presence of their pursuer known.

They stood stiff as statues, their backs pressed tightly against the back of the overturned table found within the small room Lúthien managed to drag them into. Fiora’s words echoed within her mind, but the blonde couldn’t even afford a nod of acknowledgement—unwilling to take an unneeded risk that could reveal their locations to the enemy.

The unsettling clanking of metallic pincers tickled her ears in all the wrong ways, causing the ranger to shut her eyes tightly as she remained rigid—her nose saved from the pungent smell only because she’d forgotten that breathing was a thing bodies should do. She began to reach her limit when a stomp on the floor caused the ranger to instinctively flinch, listening as their insectoid chaser finally moved along with their patrol.

Little by little her muscles begin to relax once more, careful breaths quietly taken to avoid alerting anything else that might be lurking in the vicinity. { Magitech insectoid demons with theological beliefs was not one of my bingo card’s options this year. } They sounded about as terrible as they smelled, and Lúthien desperately hoped they weren’t forced to fight against them any time soon.

Sacrifices… Even knowing this is all a dream isn’t enough to wipe away the bitter flavor that word leaves in her tongue, hands quietly balled into tight fists at her sides as the ranger works on slowing down her heartbeats… with understandable difficulty. { Sucks for them… but that means we should have a chance to move freely soon, right? }

Whatever victims Fiora’s mind had conjured up for this nightmare were not her concern, at least that’s what Lúthien told herself, as her gaze shifted back to the greenette beside her. { The commander’s tent wasn’t too far from here… if the layout here remotely resembles the real Camp Hope that is. } She grabbed onto the offered hand, letting Fiora pull her back onto her feet before the elf quietly dusted off her clothes a bit.

Crimson eyes finally zeroed in on the empty scabbard at the woman’s hip, a questioning eyebrow raised towards Fiora as the blonde pointed to the missing sword. { Think there might be a replacement somewhere around here? } Should they had been in the actual game instead of the dream plane Lúthien would’ve felt confident enough to think she’d have one within the depths of her inventory, but she’d already confirmed the items within this pseudo-UI to be limited at best.

A light snort scratches the back of her throat as the elf struggles to hold it back, the edges of her lips pulling outwards in a smirk as Lúthien shakes her head in response to Fiora’s telepathic question. { Nah, it’ll be worth it once we wake your ass up… something to remember and laugh about one day. } Despite the hidden horrors within this place a part of the girl couldn’t deny she had missed being able to interact with her friend like this…

---

❰ Player Sheet ❱

@Fiora Di Angelo