it's a war in there [March OTA, including memshare]

[not_the_last]

Who: Cassandra de Rolo & those visiting her memories / OTA
When: March
Where: Around the Serena Eterna; also Whitestone, at various points in the past
What: Things are beginning to crack
Warnings: Game-typical angst; in memshares, murder, torture, vampirism, mindfuckery both magical and mundane, and potentially noncon/dubcon; other warnings to be added in reply headers as needed

A. you're just like them, you're unprepared

Cassandra's noticed the cracks, of course. Before she brushes against one, they seem alarming and inexplicable; are they a trick, a trap, a sign that this whole little artificial plane is starting to come apart?

(The thought she barely lets herself contemplate: a way out?)

After her first few encounters with them, the nature of them seems more apparent -- although there's no guarantee they aren't also any of her previous thoughts. The first time her own memories double on her, with faces she knows from here appearing in them, she locks herself in her cabin's bathroom and curls up on the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around her knees, struggling not to begin screaming for fear that she might never stop.

[This prompt is for interacting with Cassandra in the present setting! Feel free to run into her anywhere on board, either before or after memshares begin, or PM/ping me on discord to discuss a more specific prompt.]

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B. cause you don't know the terrain

Several cracks about the ship, as it turns out, lead to a world called Exandria and a little city-state called Whitestone. Those who tumble into them will encounter a younger Cassandra at some point in her past.

[Specific pre-discussed prompts are below! If you would like a different one, see the plotting post here or PM/ping me to discuss.]

Comments

[neverleave]

Cassandra's reaction doesn't go unnoticed, but he doesn't react outwardly. The paralyzing spell locks him in place and Natsuno knows this is going to hurt.

His mouth isn't paralyzed, though, so he'll keep talking. He doubts they're going to care, probably assume it's empty defiance, but he's still going to tell them what they're worth.

"No matter what you do here, you'll fail. You get kicked out of here. You try to resurface somewhere else, because that's what you parasites do, but you get destroyed, and the people you screwed over get to outlive you."

He looks at Cassandra again.

[not_the_last]

Cassandra looks back at him, her expression going cold.

(Under the cold, visible if one knows to look for it, is a desperate anguish. Gods, she wants to believe he's right, but -- no. Hope has betrayed her more than once before now; she's not going to let it in for pretty words alone.)

"And just who do you think will destroy us?" she asks, her voice as cold as her face, imbued with withering scorn. "Better than you have tried."

Sylas, as he rises to his feet and takes a step toward the paralyzed boy, gives her an approving nod; Delilah smiles at her proudly. And a very small measure of tension goes out of the set of Cassandra's shoulders.

[neverleave]

"Oh, you don't get destroyed," he tells the younger Cassandra, equally cold. "You survive and live with your choices."

Natsuno's gaze flicks back to Sylas. He scoffs.

"Some great vampire lord you are. Need someone else to paralyze a kid for you."

[not_the_last]

Sylas clicks his tongue in disapproving pity. "You truly don't understand what it is to work together as one with another, then? A pity you'll never have the chance to learn."

He plants a hand on Natsuno's shoulder and leans in toward his bared neck, mouth opening, fangs protruding --

-- and pauses. Inhales once, deeply, then again. Looks to Delilah, with something like alarm.

"There's some magic in his blood," he says tersely. Without even glancing at Cassandra, he holds out a hand to her. "One of your knives, girl."

She's frozen, but only for a moment, and draws a plain dagger to hold it out to him hilt first. He takes it, and runs the edge with exquisite careful slowness down the captive's cheekbone, opening a shallow cut.

[neverleave]

"Gross," is all he has to say about working together as one, because if he's going to get murdered he might as well be rude until the very last moment.

His grits his teeth when Sylas leans in with bared fangs, glaring with all the hate he can muster as he struggles against the spell. He knows it's futile, but being paralyzed and helpless as a monster approaches to feed on you is a feeling he knows all too well. It's still terrifying and makes him think of Tohru.

There's no bite, though. The vampire pauses, sniffing out 'some magic' in his blood - the sun el. Natsuno doesn't make a sound or even flinch when the knife cuts his cheek. He can feel the blood tricking down his face, unnaturally hot. The bleeding stops within seconds and the incision closes quickly. You wouldn't know he's been wounded at all if it wasn't for the strange, glowing blood staining his cheek.

[not_the_last]

Sylas draws back with a hiss, fangs still bared.

Delilah, on her feet, is sketching and muttering another spell. When it takes effect, she grimaces. "Radiant power. Someone knew what they were sending you against, boy. Who was it? You can still die quickly and without further pain, if you tell us."

[neverleave]

Great, so now they think he's some kind of Trojan horse. Natsuno doesn't reply at first, trying his damnedest to will a sun flare from his mouth or eyes. It happened on its own when he was sick, and now he can't even create a tiny spark. He told Ava he's not turning into some dumb superhero, but he could really use a miraculous superpowered awakening right now...!

No such luck, though. He's not making up a name either, because they'll call his bluff and also like fuck he does what they tell him.

"Fuck off."

[not_the_last]

"Oh, no." Delilah's smile is sharper now. "No, indeed. This we will have out of you, child, one way or another. If you prove too tiresome in life ... I have some skill with corpses, and yours will answer me if I require it. Don't imagine that filth in your blood will prevent me. Even if it heals you, there's only so far it can be made to keep doing that."

As though to illustrate the matter, Sylas taps the blade gently against Natsuno's cheek, just below his eye. Not pressing.

(Behind him, Cassandra is perfectly immobile and silent, as though trying to vanish into the background.)

[neverleave]

Skill with corpses... right, necromancer. Palamedes does it by summoning the dead's soul, but methods must vary across worlds.

Natsuno keeps his expression and voice pointedly unimpressed.

"In that case you should just kill me now. Spare me the pain of listening to you."

Will this memory keep going after he dies? If so, they're in for a massive let down when his corpse explains just how he got there.

[not_the_last]

"Mmm ... I think not." Sylas leans in and carefully, almost fastidiously, drags the knife blade down Natsuno's face and the side of his neck -- the one opposite him, so as to avoid getting any of the glowing blood on himself.

Delilah's laugh is low and velvety, as she glides forward. "You misunderstand the situation gravely, if you think anyone here has any interest in sparing you pain."

(Cassandra's face is so perfectly blank as to be a stone wall, as to erase itself from the scene.)

[neverleave]

Natsuno grimaces when the knife carves a slow, long gash. This one hurt more, though the wound heals just as quickly. Cassandra clearly doesn't want to be there - even if she works for this couple, she doesn't share their cruelty - and Natsuno certainly doesn't want his death to be drawn out.

If you prove too tiresome in life, the necromancer said. Only question is what's 'tiresome' enough to be killed and what warrants more torture.

No other option than try and see what sticks.

Natsuno fangs extend behind tightly-closed lips and bite into his tongue, drawing blood, which he attempts to spit at Sylas's face.

[not_the_last]

Glowing droplets spatter the vampire's face with a faint but clear sizzling sound, and Sylas staggers back a few paces and bares his fangs with a hiss. There's a gasp from behind him, and a breath of outrage from Delilah. "You dare --"

Sylas holds up a hand to her, breathing hard through his teeth. "It's all right, my love. I think we're very nearly through here."

He tosses the dagger aside to clatter across the stone floor, draws a pair of riding gloves from his pocket, closes the distance between himself and Natsuno while pulling one of them on, and deals him a driving backhand blow across the face that would knock him to the floor if he weren't being held upright by the spell.

[neverleave]

He smiles faintly, feeling dark satisfaction at seeing the Sylas's skin sizzle. Very nearly through, huh? Good. At least he got to wipe the smugness off the creep couple's faces. If only he could figure out how to cough up another flare, he could burn the vampire before the necromancer killed him.

Natsuno cries out when the blow connects, pain exploding across his face. Blood drips from his split lip and a bruise blooms on his cheek only to fade moments later. Further rude commentary would have to wait until he stops seeing stars.

[not_the_last]

He may not get the chance to recover that far.

What follows is a brief, brutal exercise in testing the limits of Natsuno's rapid healing. After a handful of scientifically placed blows, including one that breaks his neck and one that fractures his skull (both of which heal), magic enters the picture: a Blight spell that draws half the life out of his chest and arm, leaving the flesh dry and gray and cracking like a withered leaf.

When even that doesn't kill him, the two exchange a glance and a nod, and Sylas steps away to draw a heavy greatsword from its sheath at his back.

"It'll be interesting to see if the blood retains that property afterward," Delilah muses. "Perhaps we'll give a sample to Dr. Ripley to study. Do be sure to keep the skull intact, my love, I'll need it whole to speak."

"Of course," says Sylas, and takes the swing.

(They're going to be very confused in a few minutes, when Delilah casts Speak With Dead and the severed head readily tells them who he was and how he got there.)