This quest is the shit and is so thoroughly off the hook that it's invested in SpaceX in a joint venture with Elon Musk to build an colony ship destined for Alpha Centauri to ensure the shit can live a few light years away from the hook due to pathological hatred born from a messy divorce.
Dammit, I am slow. I mean, I even wrote it before, but only now I have truly realized it.
I thought it was an effect of the Saturn Tile and us really, really wanting something to not happen, but perhaps the explanation is simpler: the time-altering magic triggered due to a trauma caused by a friend's death, and that allowed the Entity to take over. The Ascension might really be induced by stress!
The point of the entire facility might be throwing kids in a meatgrinder hoping to compel the beings within them to awaken and act on their behalf. The question is, if it's true, how did the researchers ever intend to control them? Looking back at the first interlude, perhaps they do not have an answer except for gratuitious doses of sedative.
Alright, I am so sorry, I swear to God that the update will be out tomorrow or Tuesday, I swear. Also, stay tuned for: "Not Getting Anything Done Due To Your Shit Garbage Brain", an autobiography by causticAccolade.
Alright, I am so sorry, I swear to God that the update will be out tomorrow or Tuesday, I swear. Also, stay tuned for: "Not Getting Anything Done Due To Your Shit Garbage Brain", an autobiography by causticAccolade.
"Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean it isn't so." - Lemony Snicket
INTERLUDE: DR. HELSINKI
A skinny, pale man with longish, messy, dark-brown hair is standing in front of a door, glaring at it. His sunglasses are missing, and this is bothering him. He may also be dead by the end of the day, he suspects, and this is also bothering him. Glaring at inanimate objects is a regular part of his day-to-day life, but the door has earned his ire with more immediate urgency than the typical table he resents for having stubbed his own toe on it, or the photograph of one his co-workers which he occasionally prints out for the sole purpose of glaring at. He is glaring at the door because he is fairly sure that if it does not open at some point in the very near future, he will die because of a stuck door.
"And that," he mutters out loud, "Would be really embarrassing. Fuck, I don't want that on my epitaph. Of all the things for Dad to be right about, 'you're going to die alone and unloved, Klaus' had better fucking not be one of them." He's grumbling to himself, he knows fully well, to try and cover up the fact that he's scared. He is, he also knows, not doing a very good job of it. Losing what little patience he has, he waits one, two, three seconds before giving the door a hefty kick and then yelping in pain as he strikes the metal door with his decidedly softer-than-metal foot. "Fuck!" he yells inelegantly, swiping his ID card over the reader for the third time and looking over his shoulder nervously to make sure his pained hopping hasn't moved him out of the camera blind spot he's occupying.
"Helsinki." The cold voice comes from the doorway, and the skinny man whirls unsteadily on one heel to see who it is - a tall woman, in a black uniform stained with blood. Her hair is drawn back into a long ponytail, and the look on her face indicates nothing but hostility. He is acutely aware of the gun at her hip.
"Uh, hi, wow, fancy seeing you here, Kamaria! Weird to think I'd see you, uh, here of all places, in this facility where we, both work..." he trails off, grinning nervously and trying so hard to come across as casual that he's left as obviously tense as a spring that's just heard someone insult it while they think the spring's not listening.
"Helsinki," she repeats, unamused in the same way that a punch to the face is unfriendly. "Shouldn't you be with Security Team B?"
"Well, I think should is a very strong word," he replies, leaning back against the door and running a hand through his hair. "Should anyone be anywhere? Isn't the human condition, inherently, one of not belonging? Should I have been outside an Arby's at four AM on my nineteenth birthday, preparing to fistfight fucking Carlos from my cell biology class? It doesn't matter, I was there anyway and I went home with a bloody nose and twelve dollars!"
"What. Wait, no, don't tell me. I don't have time for this." The woman reaches down to her hip and, in one fluid, practiced movement, brings up her pistol and shoots three rounds into the door, above and to the left of the pale man, who screams out loud and jumps to the right.
"FUCK! Okay, look, calm down, Kyoto, we don't have to do this, you and I, we both want to live, right, we both want to walk away from this alive, so how about we just - FUCKING FUCK!"
This last exclamation is the result of the slow, perfectly collected leveling of the gun so that it points directly between his eyes. "You are abandoning your post in a time of crisis, Helsinki. I suppose Dr. Paris doesn't know where you are? Perhaps you've been working against the Consortium all of this time. Let me warn you, before you answer for yourself. One word wrong, and I shoot you between the eyes."
Pressed against the door, the man's taut grin of anxious terror only stretches a little wider, a bead of sweat trickling from his hair and down his face. "Look, look, okay, come on, this whole thing," and at this he makes a grand sweeping gesture to indicate the whole building, "Didn't work out. It's all going to hell, and the only people who are going to have a career or, you know, a chance to be alive and not dead at the end of this, are going to be the ones who get out of here and wash their hands of it. So let's part ways, and we can just-"
"You're dodging the accusation. Have you taken part in Ankara's sabotage of this project? Yes or no."
"Now, I wouldn't call it sabotage, actually, it's just..." he trails off as his eyes widen, hands trembling as the woman in front of him fingers the trigger and he realizes he's said the wrong thing.
"I always thought you were a liability," she says, allowing just the slightest hint of emotion into her voice - an unpleasant, prickly vindication.
"Well, I always thought you were an ass-" And then she pulls the trigger.
And then the reinforced, electronic door finally opens, the overloaded computer systems finally finding it in themselves to process the request, and the bullet flies through the space where Helsinki's head was as he abruptly falls backwards, turning the motion into an ungainly roll and staggering to his feet with a grin as the door begins to close in front of him. Kyoto is too shocked to react for a moment, and in that moment he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue out before he turns and runs, calling out over his shoulder before it closes fully behind him, moments before Kyoto can attempt to get through it.
"Suck a dick, dumbshit, see you never!"
*******
A DREAM
Your name is LUCY CALLOWAY, and you are a JUNIOR SLEUTH.
But in your dream, you do not have a name. You are moving at a million miles an hour, racing towards an infinite yawning void without fear of wind or vertigo. You are sailing through the sky, not like a sailboat sails the sea, but as a rock sails a well into which it has been dropped. You are sailing upon solar winds, your course charted across a galaxy and planned to last decades. You will accelerate and accelerate until you do not even have the energy to think. At the conclusion of your journey, it will all be worth it.
You do not hurtle through the abyss alone - you are seven, the eight yet to be. The eighth will be, can only be, once you have reached your destination. This, you all know. You are seven. You are seven, and even if you succeed in your journey you may only ever be eight, and if you fail you will certainly only ever be seven. But it is better to be seven than to be none.
One to conceal, so that you are not followed by those who would not see you arrive intact.
One to gamble, to twist around the chances that are unfavourable and make them favourable.
One to persuade, to whisper in ears and seduce to the cause those who might stand in your way.
One to illuminate, to draw in light the path through the dark and burn away obstacles with searing brightness.
One to destroy, to strike down with great might what few things are left that might still pursue and persecute you.
One to understand, to see the mechanics behind the others and to bring them together with art and science.
And finally, the failsafe - one to see what was and will be, one to dive into the weres that shouldn't be and make them the werent's that should.
You are fleeing. You are flying.
You are falling.
You are falling.
> WAKE UP
*******
LUCY, MARI, AND OWEN
You awaken to find yourself with a splitting headache, giving out an irritated little whine that's meant to say "Would you very kindly turn off that light, it's exacerbating the pain caused by the headache I'm currently having," but due to the circumstances in question instead comes out as something along the lines of "MnmnnmlightsoffI'mmnmnmnmnheadacheowwwwwww."
"Oh, she's awake," Mari sighs, rolling her eyes and beckoning imperiously at Owen, who seems to have wondered off a little. "She wasn't out for long, at the very least."
"That's, good, probably, according to what I know about being unconscious. Which is, uh, nothing, actually, it's nothing, I know absolutely nothing about unconsciousness so honestly I don't even really know why I'm talking-"
"Do you ever?" Mari sharply interrupts, offering you a hand and turning her focus to you, her voice quieter and a little more gentle. "Are you alright, Calloway? I don't care, mind you, it's just... polite to ask, is all."
By this point, the pain in your head has subsided considerably, and you're able to offer a small nod, taking her hand and accepting her help up. You feel a sense of overwhelming joy at seeing her here, in front of you, safe - well, as safe as any of you are in this situation, at least. Mari seems visibly relieved that you're alright, although she only helps you up with a haughty eyeroll and disapproving sniff.
"All right, well, we're not going to go that way if the very thought of it makes you fall into unconsciousness. Let's take the other path, shall we?"
And with that, the three of you are off, and although Mari and Owen talk, mostly trading barbs and jokes at each other's expense but without ever really entering the realm of genuine hostility, you stay unusually quiet, thinking about what you dreamt. Somehow, you don't feel like it was just a dream. You walk through the labyrinth, Mari leading the way, and now that you've alerted her to the possibility she's able to point out other areas of potential structural instability, guiding the trio of you to other pathways, following red arrows drawn on walls and silver threads tired around. Sometimes, you feel like you see a flicker out of the corner of your eye, and when you turn, there is nothing there - but a red arrow that... no, surely, it was there before. You just hadn't noticed it, is all.
But no. The more you make your way through the labyrinth, sometimes hearing those dreadful, dreadful footsteps in the distance (but thankfully never nearby; it seems like Ankara is doing as she promised), the more you'll find yourself with no indication of where to go, then you blink, and suddenly, an arrow, written clear as day. But you've been able to trust these markings so far, and you see no reason to stop as the corridors gradually widen, and the lighting gets brighter, and suddenly you find yourself looking into a large, brightly lit room. It's dominated by what seems to be a fountain in the center, although the water seems to have stopped flowing. On the other side of the fountain is what appears to be... an elevator! You take a step to enter the room, but... something flickers in the doorway. You frown. It's like one a mirage, your eyes are seeing something but your brain tells you it's not there.
You blink, and suddenly, just for a few seconds, the mirage flickers, becomes tangible and visible and there, and it's a dark-skinned girl dressed in much the same outfit as yourself and Owen, albeit with a MOON symbol on her nametag. You can only see her this clearly for an instant, but when it's over, the mirage remains in place.
[] INTRODUCE YOURSELF, FIRST OF ALL
[] ASK WHO SHE IS, FIRST OF ALL
[] IGNORE HER
Oh dear God, this is very late, I'm so sorry. "Struggling with mental health" has become a succinct description of every action I take as of late, and this has affected my ability to get anything much done. But, here it is - I'm really, truly sorry if the quality isn't up to scratch, I've been very tired while writing it - but here it is! Coming up after this will be leveling up, followed by another good old puzzle room before we move on up the elevator. Yay!
"Well, I think should is a very strong word," he replies, leaning back against the door and running a hand through his hair. "Should anyone be anywhere? Isn't the human condition, inherently, one of not belonging? Should I have been outside an Arby's at four AM on my nineteenth birthday, preparing to fistfight fucking Carlos from my cell biology class? It doesn't matter, I was there anyway and I went home with a bloody nose and twelve dollars!"
Looks like Klaus has a philosophical streak about him. That usually goes well with main villains, but perhaps Kyoto was the wrong person to try it on. Then again, he gets a lot of things wrong. Like simple yes or no questions.
One to conceal, so that you are not followed by those who would not see you arrive intact.
One to gamble, to twist around the chances that are unfavourable and make them favourable.
One to persuade, to whisper in ears and seduce to the cause those who might stand in your way.
One to illuminate, to draw in light the path through the dark and burn away obstacles with searing brightness.
One to destroy, to strike down with great might what few things are left that might still pursue and persecute you.
One to understand, to see the mechanics behind the others and to bring them together with art and science.
And finally, the failsafe - one to see what was and will be, one to dive into the weres that shouldn't be and make them the werent's that should.
Okay, so Luna, Mars and Mercury are easy to attribute. We are the failsafe.
Mari/Jupiter is the one who understands mechanics behind the others. She really has the worst build to put this to use.
Sol is probably the Illuminati. Venus is the persuader. Which leads to the identity of the eighth, the one that is yet to be, being... Gaia? Incidentally, one of the two who are still under the Consortium's full control.
"Well, I think should is a very strong word," he replies, leaning back against the door and running a hand through his hair. "Should anyone be anywhere? Isn't the human condition, inherently, one of not belonging? Should I have been outside an Arby's at four AM on my nineteenth birthday, preparing to fistfight fucking Carlos from my cell biology class? It doesn't matter, I was there anyway and I went home with a bloody nose and twelve dollars!"
Have I ever mentioned that I adore Klaus Helsinki? Because I do, and really if he was a real person who I could actually marry we'd be married already. I love him so much.
[X] INTRODUCE YOURSELF, FIRST OF ALL
There's no point in being anything less than polite. The kid's been through a lot, be nice to her.
