epidemiology | EVENT ★ LABYRINTH III: THE ESCAPE

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EVENT ★ LABYRINTH III: THE ESCAPE

LABYRINTH III

The correct passageway to the inner ring of the maze is hidden behind a thick wall of vines. After cutting through the plants, the structure of the maze is noticeably different: the overgrown plants continue creeping up the walls, but the walls are no longer brick and stone, composed instead of some sort of blue metal with holes and divots carved elaborately into the surface. From some holes gush forth pure, clean water; from others, acidic liquid. The air is cool and crisp, the plants creating a lush, dim environment lit by eerie blue lights spread throughout this section.

The lizards, rats, and other monstrous creatures seem to be absent from this area of the maze, replaced instead by rhinoceros-sized beetles. The beetles each have a single horn protruding from the head, and their hard carapaces make them difficult to kill -- a better method might be to simply climb somewhere high and wait for the beetle to get bored. But unlike the other monsters encountered in the maze, the beetles seem to have something else on their mind beyond wanton violence: they can sometimes be found rolling massive balls of dung throughout the corridors of the labyrinth. (This might explain why the plants are so lush closer to the center.)

There is little time to explore this section of the labyrinth before there's a flicker of light all around and more ALASTAIR recruits suddenly appear, most dressed in a freshly pressed uniform and carrying extra food and supplies. They have been told that the cloaking surrounding Asterion Labyrinth is so strong and complex that Oska was only able to send in a handful of recruits at once for a relief effort.

In order to leave, they'll have to locate the escape mechanism that lies deep within the labyrinth; the remaining Asterion Prison correctional officers know its general location, but not precisely what it entails. All they know is that it will require technological cunning to operate and that it's heavily guarded.

After five days, the portal room is found.

THE PORTAL ROOM

The center of the labyrinth is a large, circular room with a raised platform in the middle. On this platform rests a circle of computer consoles surrounding another platform, on which sits an empty circular frame 2.5m (8') in diameter. This is the dormant portal, and it is now Audentes's task to turn it on and find their way back to Oska.

Because the portal is not made for interdimensional travel, it must be overclocked, which will cause it to burn out and explode once it is used. In order to override the safety protocols in place to prevent such dangerous tampering, the control panels must be unlocked -- and unfortunately, the locks are all complicated puzzles, ranging from the numerical to sliding pieces into place to complete a pattern. There are many of these puzzled scattered around the portal room, and once they are all unlocked, it's a simple matter of flipping the power override switches. Ignore the dangerous humming sound and the way the frame suddenly fills with violent purple energy. That's probably normal.

The new recruits have the correct coordinates to locate Oska, which has temporarily lowered its cloaking shield to allow Audentes to return. So there is a bit of a time crunch.

Adding more to the difficulty of the situation is the presence of a monster lumbering around the circular portal room. Six meters (20') high, the beast is best described as a minotaur, but perhaps not in the traditional sense: while it resembles a bipedal bull, it is an amalgamation of flesh and machine with its body covered in pistons and glowing lights. One of its hands is an enormous axe and it belches fire and acid. Despite its head resembling an herbivore, the piles of desiccated bones scattered throughout the portal room tell a different story.

Upon seeing the group, the minotaur charges. Mavahari, the Zymandis recruit, rushes to meet it with her sword drawn. Inmates and correctional officers do their best to fight it as well, but something becomes quickly apparent: it cannot be harmed by projectile weapons. The machinery of the beast keeps it protected from most attacks, though electricity will stun it and acid will corrode its metal. But in order to injure the minotaur, it must be stabbed between the metal plates where its vulnerable flesh remains.

During the battle, the minotaur fights viciously and without regard for its own safety. The first casualty comes early: the minotaur swings its axe toward Mavahari, who is pushed out of the way by George. The axe connects with him solidly, sending him flying into the wall with a shuddering impact. George lies there still, but there's no time to mourn. The beast continues its rampage.

Once the minotaur is defeated, you'll have to quickly decide what to do with the correctional officers and inmates who have followed Audentes through the Asterion Labyrinth. The overclocked portal won't hold forever, and the longer Oska leaves its cloak down, the better chance they have of being found by their enemies.

OOC NOTES

This log will last for six IC days: five days for exploration and one day at the center of the maze. We have also recently altered the calendar this month, so make sure you review it!

IMPORTANT: Participation in the solution poll is mandatory for August AC. Failure to participate will result in an automatic strike. The only exception is for those who are exempt from August AC. The poll will close on 11 August 23:59 UTC.

If you have any questions about the labyrinth that aren't answered here, please direct them to the Leramzen dossier.

Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ and you may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

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[The Minotaur is dead and the portal awaits.

Yet Hayame cannot feel anything she was once promised would come with "victory". The feeling of glory, of honor to one's master, of pride at the defeat of a proper opponent. All she feels is exhaustion, bone deep and edging on collapse after the long battle. Covered in sweat mixed with dirt and blood, the lather of exertion drips forlornly down hock and hoof. A cut across her cheek bleeds enough to bely how shallow the wound is, other small cuts and a few larger marks along her flanks weeping sluggish red where she'd been hit with impact shrapnel courtesy the heavy impacts of the Minotaur's weapon.

But she'd ended with her life, for all that was worth.

She wants to lay herself down and curl up in a corner, in her master's stable with a fresh bed of hay, and wake up realizing this was all just a dream, that this madness was not about to continue with passage through a magical "door" that would take them somehow through the black back to Oska... but she can't do that, either.]

My lord.

[They'd met and separated so many times in the heat of battle despite her efforts to stay at his side, and she inspects his condition anxiously, fingers and muscles trembling with over-exertion, her quiver empty and the string of the bow in her hand snapped.]

It is almost time.

[ It is unbecoming for a prince to show weakness. In comparison to his father's unrelenting, unyielding willpower, he is a fractional thing - divided between his own fears and needs, unable to transcend them. His hands shake, tucked into the pockets of his ALASTAIR-issued uniform jacket as they are to hide the fact, and though his injuries are lighter than some, he is ragged with exhaustion.

Hayame finds him, like this.

Tired, overworked. His knees buckling and heart still racing with leftover adrenaline. As she nears him, he reaches for her - a shocking thing, how easily he's begun to lay a hand upon this woman-warrior that he leads and is responsible for. Such a thing would never happen, in their respective worlds. Yet, this is not either of those places, and perhaps she won't be adverse to the hand he rests on her forearm, for now. ]

Hayame.

[ Even his voice sounds weary. ]

Do you think this is how it will always be?

[He reaches for her, and she cannot shy away. Not only because truly, she is too tired now even for such a small thing as that, senses dulled and shot by overstimulation in the frenetic pace of battle... but also because she has grown to know that with his touch comes the tiniest degree of comfort she has in this place. Recognition. Anchor. Acceptance.

Her skin jumps slightly beneath the curl of his fingers, but she does not, cannot, move away.]

... it may not be for long, my Lord.

[Her voice is quiet, too tired for the usual grit and fire, the growl of a warrior. She sounds more like a simple woman now than she probably ever has, even when he'd found her begging to die upon the prison ship. The words themselves could be perceived as comforting, perhaps, some sign that they might be returned to their worlds soon enough...

But she doesn't mean it so positively as that at all.]

[ honestly, he doesn't want to consider the depth of the thing she's said. not this time. the idea that they may part? he fears it. hayame's presence allows him certain things: the stability in continuing what he was born and raised to do, the responsibility of leading her fairly, the way that she looks to him when she makes decisions.

but the way it tastes, is sour. anxiety and guilt curling in the pit of his stomach, exhaustion causing even his proud shoulders to droop. ]

I suppose not. All things come to an end.

[ slowly, he takes his hand from her and crosses his arms over his chest. observing, monitoring the motions that the rest of audentes goes through, though he keeps himself close to her side, his face turned up to her. there are dark circles under his eyes, his bottom lip bitten ragged over the hour. ]

And they must, as I made you a promise. One that I can only make good of, once we've paid our "dues".

[ he won't go back. there's nothing for him to go back for. ]

Has anyone cared for your injuries, Hayame? [ he gestures to her own tired, battered body ] If you'd permit me, I... I'll look after you.

[She has craved that end so badly that she does not know what to do if she is not to seek it. Failed at her attempt to pull Matsukaze with her down the waterfall and kill them both, failed at her attempt to slit her own belly aboard that ship in the great black... and now, failed to die gloriously in battle against a raging beast.

And Hayame is ashamed, for missing the touch of his hand when he removes it, where it had been anchoring and warm. Fingers twitch, and in the slightest of betrayals half reaches for him- but she reigns herself in, forces her fingers to curl into a fist instead.]

I could allow no such thing if you are yet pained...

[Which is... not a "no", because if he had ointments or bandages, she knew she ought to accept them. She wasn't that foolish, wasn't looking to die slowly from gangrene. Just had to make sure he himself had been treated, by another party more skilled than herself preferably, before she accepted such a thing.

Because even if she were to refuse treatment verbally... physically, she was going to have to lie down sooner rather than later if the trembles in her slim ankles were any indication.]

Together, then? As we are in so many things.

[ if she will refuse treatment until he is cared for, there is only one thing to do - offer to go at her side. the healers are busy, and his wounds are numerous but superficial. what red is upon him is from the minotaur, as he slipped and slid through innards and spilled lifesblood across the floor at his feet. they're both exhausted, though. shaking. running on less than fumes at this point.

he wants to sit down. he wants to sleep. a prince cannot show such weaknesses, especially before his vassal. ]

I can find some clean cloth, fresh water. [ he's gone before she can protest, a slim streak of white-blue and waning energy, checking among the various members of the team and the scattered inmates, bargaining where he must. by the time he comes back, he's winded, breathing heavily, with his arms full of a few essential first aid items. cloth, light bandages, a ceramic jug full of clean water.

he sets these things down, where there is a space that is not full of minotaur blood, or debris from the battle. and back to her; ninurrta reaches for her hand this time, drawing it between his own. ]

You know, I am proud of you. You were a true warrior to all of us, just now. What I was able to do, I did because I knew you were there alongside me. You'd do me a kindness, if you let me tend to you first, Hayame.

[Together.

Her gaze casts shamefully downwards, shameful of the comfort such a word brings her, in how he seems to always be supporting her, and not the other way around- but it shoots back up soon enough at his insistence that he will go.]

My lord, you needn't-

[She finally does reach for him, fingers brushing just lightly over the tip of his braid, but he's going. Then he's gone, and though she tries to follow, her knees lock and threaten to buckle, and she's forced to wait, blood dripping slowly down her flanks and mixing in the dirt, sweat, and, on one back foreleg... what seems to be someone's vomit.

But there's a visible relief in her, that what he comes back with isn't one of the healers with their strange and invasive magic, but actual... bandages. Things that make sense.

Her mouth opens, planning to insist upon treating him first, then closes as he takes her hand. His own hands are so... warm. So beautiful. Without realizing, she curls slightly over him, their hands, struggling for something to say. What could she say, to excuse her weakness? To excuse how desperately she needed him- perhaps, how she had needed anyone.

But he was who she found.]

... you honor me beyond worth.

[Her voice catches slightly, and she concedes (how could she not, under such praise and such sincerity), reluctantly bowing her head as she takes back her hand and lowers herself into that space he had found, the last few inches more a fall than controlled lay, but it accomplishes the same purpose- it puts her bloody flanks and cut cheek within easy reach.]

I needn't what, Hayame?

[ He picks up the ends of her protests, after he returns. She speaks, and he's apt to listen to her - because she is his dutiful warrior, a vassal who's proven herself to him, and whom keeps him from falling into absolute despair. He has come close to it, particularly when she threatened her own life, with her own hands. To lose her would be to lose what little stability he has left in his life. There is no way he can burden her with this knowledge, however.

( He hides that away, the way a true prince of the realm should. Discreet, above all else. )

When he comes back, it's with patches of clean cloth and water to clean her cuts with. Leading her by the hand, he takes her aside, away from the fuss and the gore and the debris. Others are puzzling over the remains, looking to reach the goal of returning to Oska as quickly as possible, but for a moment -- he can breathe and take care of Hayame. She lays down for him, and he tips forward and onto his knees ( sore, but controlled ) and dampens the cloth. ]

You continue to give me purpose, you know. [ He'll start with her face, delicate and mindful of her eyes. ] I've been told a few times, that this is a team effort. There's little room for a leader among them, and all I have ever been is a prince. I'm grateful to you.

[He needn't. Needn't treat her so well, needn't consider her as highly as he seemed to, needn't consider her worth much of anything at all. The "0" is still glowing shamefully on her forehead, the mindless Minotaur not intelligent to count as a kill, and her hands that he so generously holds have failed to do so much.

She can only shake her head slightly to clear away his question. He simply needn't.

But it's quiet here, and though she had never been embraced in her entire life, this sort of touch she has experienced. If she tried, she could remember Yuugiri's chuckle and how that foolish expression he would make looked, lips twisted into a wry smile as if their situation was not serious. The way he would press a poultice against a cut she found difficult to reach, and say Sister, we all already know you'll become a lord's warrior, you needn't show off so much at Exhibition Day.

Gaze softening in weak nostalgia, she lowers her eyes and obediently submits to his treatment, two sets of lungs still expanding somewhat shallow, but steadying as he wipes the blood and dirt from her cheek and says such eloquent words, such articulate expression of his feelings. She knows she should respond in kind, but for her such a thing seems nearly impossible- though she tries.]

I always aspired to be the warrior of a great lord... that is all I worked for, but then things became so wrong-

[In her world, as well as this one. Expressing herself, as he surely knew by now, with how little she spoke and how little she gave of her past and personal feelings, but she tries, she does, struggling through the instinct to choke it down. A lord did not desire a jinba that was anything less than obedient.]

It is I who is grateful- if my brother were here, I would beg you take him in my stead, for he has not failed as I have... but he is not, and I-

[Have only Ninurrta, and hands shaking from what she hopes is perceived as exhaustion.]

I am the only one-

[No Kohibari, the armless who had defied their master and caused all of this simply because he wished to be free. No Koume, her round face aglow and a child growing in her belly. No Matsukaze, who was so strong and yet so gentle, who she thought perhaps, if things had been different, she could have-]

I have a sister, younger than me.

[ The words are slow, they come from him like a river that hopes to meet the sea. Hayame is that sea, and he wants so badly to reach her. For his empathy to coax her to know the confidence that he has in her, that despite the numeral burning on her brow, he doesn't think less of her. A murderer is not a warrior, and to know that her kills will come under his watchful eye... he knows she won't run astray, in her eagerness, if he can guide her gently. If he'll let her be a kind lord to her, and overwrite her poor memories of those that came before. ]

Her name is Mithra, and my father loves her where he doesn't so much as--

[ A sharp noise, as he reflects on it. He might press too hard against her cheek, swiping roughly as he's overcome with the mere thought of it. That his father doesn't look his way, save for with cold eyes and no love in his heart. Hayame doesn't need to know that, not now. It leads to too much, and he could be discovered for the liar and traitor he is. ]

Things became so wrong. I have... "brothers" now, who may be blood. I want to surpass them, and at every turn, I feel as though I fall farther and farther behind. It's like that, isn't it, Hayame? This feeling that you'll never catch up, that every step you take is weighted against you. That you'll never quite amount to what you should.

[ His hand touches her other cheek. She's struggling, and he is too. Neither of them seem very well made, especially for expression emotions that are often better hidden. ]

I can't be a prince, for my realm. Not here. But, I can be a prince for you, and that is what I strive for. I want to be your bastion, your stability. A lord worth your bow and the one who is always in your corner, no matter what comes our way. I don't believe I could accept your brother, not over you.

Edited (oh wait) 2017-08-23 01:19 (UTC)

[A beloved younger sister. Brothers who vy for position in their father's eyes. The political duels and machinations of the nobility... it is a tale she knows well. Not necessarily because she herself lived anything like it, birthed from an armless broodmare into the hay of a master's stables and raised as property, but because all the great tales of her world and culture speak of such things. The scheming of women in the palace halls to have their sons made crown prince, the whispers of men to other men in order to elevate or tear down political rivals-

But the feeling she knows. Watching armed jinba less skilled than she earn appreciative comments and stares from the courtiers who came to appraise them, while she was always dismissed for her womanly nature. The cascading fear of failure, of shame, or worthlessness beyond use to that person-

She flinches only slightly beneath the rough press on the cut across her cheek, her gaze growing wet with weakness and emotion more easily overflown in exhaustion.]

I just did not want to be bought for breeding... to spend my life bearing foals. I did everything I could to be a warrior, to be-

[To be unlike her mother, some broken thing valued for her beauty and obedience, raising her tail and pressing her armless torso into the stable wall for support each breeding season to be mounted by whichever male jinba had their master's favor that year. But he says such kind, such wonderful things that she can't even believe she's hearing him correctly. Perhaps she's gone soft in the head, or exhaustion or blood loss has addled her brain-]

But Yuugiri is kind, my lord- like you are. Too good for this place and these people, these missions-

[And too good for the likes of her... even though she wants it and needs it more than ever or anything.]

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EVENT ★ LABYRINTH III: THE ESCAPE

For Ninurrta

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