EVENT ★ BACK TO THE FUTURE

[futurologists]

BENDED TIME As outlined in the OOC post, things start to slow down and grow quiet in Oska for a few days as the bugs crawl away and slowly disappear. But then the cocoons hatch. Fully grown temporal insects claw their way out of them, each about the size and temperament of raging bulls. They come out far more aggressive and eager to fight, are are willing to take on anything that moves with jaws and claws alike. Except, of course, another insect — when two of them encounter each other, they enter into a mating dance and then slip away into another dimension, leaving behind only the temporary ghosts of years gone by. If you can’t find a way to pierce that thick shell to take one down, better find another one to pair it off with instead. Just try not to get bit while leading them around and find yourself suddenly 5 years old again. The insects aren’t the only thing going on in Oska, though. As it turns out, unicorns really hate this adult form of the temporal insects, and will start kicking their way out of their stalls in the stables to get at the insects in an attempt to impale or trample them. According to Uruz they’re gallant warriors, but not always quite cut out to take on a bug, and can easily get themselves hurt or killed. She would really appreciate recruits taking a moment to recapture any stray unicorns they may come across and leading them back to the stables. Try to avoid any insects on the way, or you’ll find yourself suddenly fighting insect and irate unicorn, which is no one’s idea of a good time. The lake is getting more active, too. All the fighting has woken up something in the depths of it. Dark red tentacles sometimes creep up onto shore — and don’t worry, this time they don’t belong to a sea goddess. The tentacles don’t attack unless attacked, and can in fact be quite agreeable. Nodes along the length of them act as primitive eyes, which see well enough to interact with anyone nearby. They’re also all a little peckish. Toss a tentacle a bit of food and watch it curl around and ingest it using tiny mouths on the underside. It might even be willing to play a few rounds of fetch or slap a bug into the sky for you if you put it in a good mood with a morsel of food. The senior ALASTAIR members can be seen out and about and doing their part, too. Uruz and Dagny fight as a team, centaur and elf, sometimes fighting back to back and sometimes as mount and rider. They’ll stop and lend a hand, but the cats are a little less generous. Cherenkov and Crowley fight inseparably and use magic and science in deadly combination to ward off and destroy the bugs, but can usually only be seen darting on their way from one place to another. They have a lot of magitek to repair in the destructive wake of the insects. Pomarr, neither as senior nor as invested in actively picking off the bugs, offers shelter near a tentacle-free portion of the lake, calling down storms to toss away bugs for her and anyone in the vicinity. OOC NOTES This log spans a week ICly. Characters will find themselves beginning to understand each other again as the bugs first vanish, as the effects of the cats’ work on the magitek pays off. The translation problem will be completely fixed by the time the cocoons hatch. All of the bugs will have been killed or shipped off by the sixth day, leaving the last day before their departure to the next mission blissfully relaxing. Any temporally misplaced recruits will be back to normal by the last day, as well. A reminder to anyone still texting: the texting feature of magitek jewelry operates based on thought! There are no physical keyboards, recruits merely think the message that they’d like to send to another recruit.

Comments

[heelies]

[Even in the panic of this pursuit, of prey fleeing from predator, there is time enough to wonder at the awesome power which crackles from the stranger's fingertips as would lightning from the hands of Zeus who bears the aegis. A few paces beyond where stands Meallan, Achilles is struck dumb as with wide eyes he watches the fearsome beast clash with the flickering field of light. Then comes the command to run, and again his feet fly over the smooth stones of the hall. Farther down the corridor down which they flee he sees a doorway, and there he runs. He gestures for the man to follow his lead.] Hurry now - there we may hide! [The heavy wooden door he pulls open with ease, and he holds it that Meallan may pass first pass through. Swiftly he follows at his heels, yanking shut the door in his wake. The room in which they now stand boasts ceilings so tall it almost seems impossible that still they remain inside. Light drifts in through the ornately arched windows and dozens of lanterns spill forth their yellow glow. The walls are lined with richly gleaming shelves of the finest wood, the length of each filled with volumes upon volumes - but all of this means little to one who in all his life has never seen a book, for no such thing has yet been imagined in his time. As he catches his breath he looks around the sprawling space, and his bemusement for it is plain.]

[strikingtwice]

[The boy is fast on his feet at least, fast as a Dalish child even, and Meallan is glad he doesn't have to worry about dragging him along as they run. He doesn't question the choice in direction, knowing that being out of sight gives them a better chance than not, and as the door is pulled shut he focuses again. The spell is more difficult, not being his preferred element, but he manages to create enough ice against the door to hopefully hold it for a time, on the off chance that the insect tries to get it open somehow.

Then he turns around to take in where they are and the look of uncertainty mixed with wonder on the boy's face.]

Good choice, we should be able to avoid it here. And we won't get too bored either.

[He pauses a moment, then asks curiously:] Have you never seen a library before?

[heelies]

[As he treads further into the grand room, his gaze drifts from the thousand curiosities it comprises to the man whose appearance is equally strange to him, from the pointed peaks of his ears and the markings on his face which remind Achilles of tree roots and branches, down to his arm which instead of tapering into a hand ends abruptly in empty air. At this he cannot help but stare, as children tend to do, with some grotesque blend of fascination and horror. It is only when Meallan asks his question that Achilles remembers that he ought to look him in the eye.] I've not heard of a library before. [He shakes his head, and his brow buckles into a tight knot.] What land is this in which I now find myself? Are you lord of this house? [For one so young, who has only just begun to leave childhood behind and move ever closer to manhood, he addresses adults with ease: not a trace of shyness shadows his words, and he stands with shoulders square and chin held level, for this is how his father has taught him.]

[strikingtwice]

[He catches the stare - it would be hard not to, really - but oddly it doesn't bother him as much as he'd have thought. Perhaps it's the honesty of it, since Meallan knows that others must also stare when he's not looking and wonder about it, and he'd heard the murmurs in the Inquisition after it had happened as well. At least now it's open and obvious and he strangely appreciates it more.

Whoever the boy is, he's refreshingly direct.]

I'm not lord of anything, especially not here. [Gesturing, he leads the way further from the door, not wanting their voices to be easily overheard.]

But you're in a place called Oska, home of a group called ALASTAIR. Usually I'd say you'd be expected to work for them as well but with your age... Hopefully they don't mean to hold you to the same responsibility as the rest of us.

[heelies]

[His frown presently sharpens and his brow lowers over his eyes as do clouds when before a storm they gather.] I am not so very young - soon I shall be a man. [He seems to stand taller now as if to lend support to this claim, and although his height and breadth is not nearly so intimidating as it shall be when he is fully grown, still there emanates an imperious air from his stance.] Moreover, I find your speech not to my liking, stranger, for I boast for my father worthy Peleus of Aeacus' stock who is companion to Jason and Heracles both, and my mother is Thetis the silver-footed goddess of Nereus' stock. Thus it is not meet that I should be taken as a servant in another man's house. What claim has this Alastair over me? I remember not how I came to be here - in one moment I was there atop Mount Pelion, and in the next I lay upon the floor of this great hall with that terrible beast standing over me.

[strikingtwice]

Soon you might be old enough to try proving yourself a man at least. [Meallan can't help but suggest, not quite believing this boy is old enough for either really.] I'm not certain about your people, but mine believe that you need to prove yourself grown, not simply live long enough.

[He pauses as the boy speaks again, and while the names don't bring much to mind, the mention of having a goddess for a mother does. He's only met one who claimed as much as that.]

I wouldn't complain to me about being brought here. I didn't bring you or anyone else here, and I'm in the same situation you are. Getting cross at me about it makes you sound like a child complaining that he's not getting his way, not like someone who's claiming he's ready to be a man.

Now if you'd really like to know more about being here, how about we start with sharing names first? Mine is Meallan.

[heelies]

[For this admonishment, Achilles' scowl smooths somewhat as an exhale heaves past his lips. Even if this man is no more than a servant to this house, he has been taught to show respect toward his elders, and moreover it seems that Meallan wishes to help him.] I am Achilles. There is reason indeed in your speech, for a man with no deeds to his name is hardly a man at all. For this reason I intend to one day prove my worth by dint of spear, that I may be honored as the greatest warrior of my time. Such is the rumor of my destiny as spoken by the gods. [Yet perhaps most telling of all on the question of his maturity is his present reluctance to leave behind the green sanctuary of Mount Pelion so soon. To think on that distant day, which to him seems as a smudge upon the horizon, is difficult.]

[strikingtwice]

Your destiny? [Now that's interesting, and Meallan knows a little of what that might feel like, although he's fairly certain no one predicted anything that had happened with the Inquisition. Having everyone assume you were sent by a holy figure though, feeling all the pressure to live up to what they all thought you could do... he doesn't envy the boy for being in that situation.]

It must be intimidating in a way, to think that people are expecting you to become the greatest warrior of your time one day. Do you worry that it won't happen?

[heelies]

[There comes with this question the slightest tilt of his head.] Almighty Zeus does not err in his judgment - what the Fates have decreed shall be so, for me and for every man in his turn. Should I raise my spear in battle, then I shall win this glory. It is only if I should refrain from war that I shall fail to grasp such fame. [He shall be the strongest regardless of whether or not any beyond Phthia's shores know his name: thus the difference lies not in his strength, but the reputation thereof. One path shall lead him to a swift death while still quite young, the other to a long life passed in peace. Already he knows this two-fold fate so well. But his own death too is a hazy, inchoate concept which hovers beyond his grasp while he is so vibrant with youthful vitality.]

[strikingtwice]

[Meallan gives a soft laugh at that answer. In a way it reminds him of when he was a child as well, so certain that everything he'd learned was right and true. Unshakeable. It seems such a naive way to think now.]

Gods make mistakes. [He's well aware that isn't likely to go down well and perhaps it would be better to let the young man's words lie, but his own shaken beliefs still prickle at him. Perhaps it's unfair to take it out on others like this but the similarities bother him too much to remain silent.]

Maybe you're lucky, maybe yours don't. But I've not met or heard of any god that was truly all they claimed to be. Often they just claim to be powerful but do nothing for anyone other than themselves. I'd be careful about putting all my faith in what they'd promise.

[heelies]

[The stranger laughs, but Achilles' words sharpen solemnly.] He who shows such impudence toward the gods is a fool. So it was with wretched Tantalus when he thought himself clever enough to trick the gods into partaking of a terrible feast of flesh. For his crimes he was made to stand forever more in a pool over which hang branches bearing the most succulent fruits, and these are ever out of his reach. Thus he yearns quite fruitlessly through all his days while his stomach howls. [So he has been taught countless times, for all children know well the warning borne by Tantalus' tale. Almost as an afterthought, he adds too:] Nor would my mother lie to me. She would not choose such a destiny for me.

[strikingtwice]

So... worship and believe everything they say or they'll punish you? Or was that only because of what he tried to trick them into eating, because if it's the first one that seems more like slavery than something good.

[And it strikes rather close to home as well, which makes him less likely to consider that he's essentially arguing with a boy about what he should believe; something Meallan himself has been on the receiving end of before.]

[heelies]

[His frown hardens and with it deepen the creases in his brow. He has been taught to respect his elders, yet here is a man who respects not the gods - surely he ought to stand against him.] His crime was twofold: the feast he shared with the gods he made by murdering his children, his own flesh and blood, and this act he committed out of arrogance, for he thought it a good laugh to deceive the gods. His punishment therefore was well deserved. By your strange appearance it is clear to me that you hail from a foreign land, where the far-seeing gods of Olympus must yet be unknown to your unfortunate people - and so I shall not yet fault you for these foolish words you speak. I ask however that you cease, for you know not what you say.

[strikingtwice]

His own... [Disgust is evident on Meallan's face, and while he mightn't agree with the fixation Achilles has on his gods, that is something that he's glad to imagine he might be wrong about.]

Then I'm glad to hear he got everything he deserved. No one should harm their own family for something so petty and cruel.

[And he supposes as well that the boy has a point about Meallan's own comments about his gods. It's a shade too close to the things said about his own beliefs by those that worshipped Andraste, and that's enough to make him back down.]

You're right, and I'm sorry for pressing the matter. My people have our own gods and I'd like it no better if you were to call us foolish for our beliefs, wrong as they may seem to you.

[heelies]

[He nods respectfully but still the pride which crackles in his eyes and burnishes his features is unmistakable, for this is inherent in him.] I shall accept your apology, Meallan. [His gaze lingers upon the man's strange features once more before he pries away to take in the room in which they now stand, the appearance of which he finds just as strange.] What is this chamber? Such a place I have never seen before.