come_sailaway | In her sepulchre there by the sea

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In her sepulchre there by the sea

Who: Palamedes Sextus and his cavalier, Camilla Hect, the rest of the House Heirs, a gaggle of spooky monks, some skeletons, a murderer, and you!
What: Memshare adventures! All memories are open to all.
When: Anytime in March
Where: Canaan House, Earth!
Warnings: Canon-typical blood, violence, and mild body horror
Notes: Below the cut you will find some scene-setting and descriptions/notes for each of the prompts. Prompts themselves are in the comments!

In general, characters will assume that you arrived with the other visitors to Canaan House a few weeks before any of the events described below, but they will have no idea who you are and why you’re there, and will be extremely suspicious of your presence.

Canaan House rises out of the sea like a castle, a tower, a crumbling mausoleum. Outside the small island on which it stands, the ocean stretches as far as the eye can see, sparkling under the bright rays of Dominicus. The building itself is clearly old, crumbling in places, windows cracked and bricks pitted; even on a thanergenic planet, where life must fight for its existence, nature is slowly overtaking one of the last symbols of humanity on the planet all people once called home.

Inside, the sense of grand decay continues. If you squint, you might notice the way it resembles a university building, some wings made up with wood floors and elaborate bannisters, fading paintings and rotting tapestries on the walls, while others are full of large, light-filled spaces, all glass, and steel, and concrete. There is a large courtyard with a dry fountain, broken elevators and flights of stairs that end halfway up, and dozens of doors with numbers above the threshold, each with its own unique lock, each requiring a key to open. Listen closely and you might hear an ambient hum of electricity, or the quiet clatter of bone from the dozens of otherwise-silent skeleton constructs that clean, and cook, and gather food for the planet’s first guests in nearly ten thousand years.

Welcome to the First House. Don’t stay any longer than you have to.

The Wind Came Out of the Cloud By Night
Investigate a murder scene! This is the best chance of meeting lots of other characters or exploring Canaan House more broadly.

The Demons Down Under the Sea
Solve a puzzle, fight a skeleton monster, hang out with Palamedes and Camilla

We Loved With a Love That Was More than Love
Experience Palamedes death! Please note that unless previously discussed, characters will not be able to interact with this memory, only observe.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You find yourself standing in a six-sided metal-lined corridor deep beneath the ground floor of Canaan House. The walls are covered in perforated panels, the ceiling and floor a grille through which air is circulating, the whole space lit by faintly humming florescent lights. There’s a ladder bolted to the wall that reaches upward, and if you squint you can see the trapdoor at the top.

You’re probably not looking up, though. You’re probably looking down at the floor, where the body of a man and a woman lay tangled together, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles and a small pool of blood beneath them. It doesn’t take a necromancer to figure out that they are dead.

Lucky (perhaps?) for you, you’re not alone with these bodies. A familiar figure, gangly and bespectacled, and wearing a ratty bathrobe over button-up pajamas, is kneeling beside the bodies, holding the dead woman’s wrist with care. Close by, a girl of about twenty with a blunt bob haircut and grey-brown eyes is tying one end of a rope to a large flashlight and tossing the other end through the ceiling grille to hang it. A small woman in black robes wearing robes and black-and-white skull facepaint, stalks a circle around the bodies. A taller figure, similarly dressed, crouches on her heels in the corner. There are others, too, some chalking symbols on the ground, others flipping through notebooks, others standing back and watching with wary eyes.

“No pulse,” says Palamedes Sextus, Master Warden of the Library and Heir to the House of the Sixth. He doesn’t seem to be speaking to anyone in particular, but his voice fills the corridor. “Dead three hours, give or take a few minutes.”

This memory smells like recycled air, decay and death. Natsuno can't help but recall the fomicry lab, though that one was distinctly newer. And unlike the lab, this time there's no convenient supply room to hide in.

Pal is here, and these other people must be necromancers as well, from different schools and Houses. That small girl with the face paint must specialize in bones, the creepy white-haired one is... ghosts? Either way, Natsuno's certain they all have ways to cause him excruciating pain.

He takes one careful step toward the bodies, sniffing the air. Pal's psychometry is surely more effective, but perhaps he can still discover a hint. A peace offering to the crowd, who's going to spot him any moment now.

“Good,” says the white-haired boy, pressing his palms together as though in prayer. “Then there is likely still time to call them back before they are taken by the River forever.”

A larger man, standing a half-step behind the boy, doesn’t sigh exactly, but he deflates ever so slightly.

Palamedes is continuing to carefully inspect the bodies, and he doesn’t look up from his work when he says, “Agreed, but let’s do it the old-fashioned way, shall we?”

Silas seethes. “This isn’t the time for squeamishness, Master Warden.”

“I’m in agreement with our friendly neighborhood librarian.” This statement comes from a towering woman with copious curls who leaps lightly off the last rung of the ladder. Coming down after her is another blond woman and a young man with a sword at his belt. “Soul siphoning is so crass.”

The necromancers are too busy bickering to notice a stranger hiding in the shadows, but at least one person has their eye out for danger. Natsuno will soon find the tip of a knife pressed to the small of his back. “Don’t move,” a woman’s voice whispers in his ear. Her tone is calm, flat. Notably, the woman who had been hanging the flashlight is nowhere to be seen.

Bless Camila Hect's vigilance and ruthless efficiency. Natsuno was busy watching the exchange (soul-siphoning? sounds nasty) and only notices her a split second before the knife is pressed against his back. He complies and stands completely still, hands hanging loosely at his sides.

"I'm not looking for trouble," he says in a similarly calm, flat voice.

Edited (Missed the important word lmao) 2023-03-08 12:04 (UTC)

Camilla makes a small sound of satisfaction. At least this interloper is cooperative. “Well, you’ve found it. Tell me what you’re doing down here, and quickly. I'd say you have about two minutes before the Master Warden notices you.”

Meanwhile, Palamedes and the girl in the black cloak are kneeling near the bodies, deep in murmured conversation. After a few moments, they seem to come to some kind of agreement, and Pal begins to draw a series of symbols on the ground in chalk.

Master Warden. So she is with Palamedes.

"I fell through a rift in reality and ended up here," he says, still calm and business-like. He doesn't know if she'll believe him, but the truth seems easier than coming up with a lie. Natsuno hopes it will ring close enough to the "River."

“Hm.” It’s impossible to tell if Camilla believes him, but she doesn’t gut him like a fish, so that’s probably a good sign. Instead, she nudges him by the shoulder, pushing him towards Pal, who is now kneeling at one corner of the circle. He looks up from drawing symbols in blood as they approach, a trick of the light making his eyes almost invisible behind his glasses. For the moment, at least, no one else seems to notice this stranger.

“He says he fell through a rift in reality,” Cam says before Pal can ask the obvious question.

“Does he?” Pal almost smiles. “Well, if that’s a lie, it’s a very interesting one. We shall have to discuss it later. Now,” he looks straight at Natsuno, “have you ever witnessed a seance?”

“Warden—“

Pal sighs and takes off his glasses. “I know. This is very unorthodox. But Abigail Pent is dead. We only have a small window of time in which to talk to her, and that window is closing fast. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Thank whatever god out there that she didn't gut him like a fish. It'd be so awkward to explain why he can just push his entrails back inside and move on.

Natsuno walks obediently towards Palamedes, apparently not minding to still be held at knife point.

"If I wanted to lie, I'd come up with something less ridiculous," he remarks. "But I've seen a seance once. My friend tried to summon some spirits with blood and candles, but it didn't work."

He thinks about summer camp and the video of Pal explaining how to perform a seance. It's still on his phone, which is in a back pocket. Despite the tense situation, Natsuno is quite curious to see if this one will actually work.

Edited 2023-03-12 10:37 (UTC)

“Then I pray we have more success than your friend.” Palamedes cleans his glasses on the edge of his bathrobe and returns them to his face. Then he hands Natsuno a piece of chalk. “Make a mark at the head, feet, and either side of our friends here.” Yes, he means the dead bodies. “The marks should align as precisely as you can manage.”

A little bit louder, for the rest of the room, he adds, “He’s with me.” 
Congrats, Natsuno, the Master Warden of the Library has officially vouched for you.

Everything about this is so Palamedes Sextus, he almost laughs - almost. Natsuno Yuuki isn't known for his good humor and also that's probably inappropriate with the dead bodies.

Natsuno looks at the others - necromancer and knight pairs, he realizes - and shrugs before getting to work. He marks the requested spots with careful precision, utterly unfazed by the gruesome murder scene.

Among the pairs there is one trio of tall, attractive blondes. Coronabeth Tridentarius kneels with her sister, holding Ianthe’s wrist steady as Ianthe takes a knife to her own palm. Behind them, their cavalier stands, looking bored. As Natsuno approaches, Ianthe raises her eyes and speaks.

“Sextus, if you’re going to adopt a pet, I won’t stop you. But do keep him away from me, we don’t know where he’s been.”

Palamedes ignores her. Once Natsuno finishes making the marks, he says, “Now step outside the circle and we shall begin.”

Natsuno looks up at the bitchy barbie trio when the pale one speaks. Ah, so she's one of those people. Probably thinks she's the epitome of wit. Natsuno shrugs again and goes back to work.

He steps back wordlessly when instructed, opting to remain quiet and expressionless until something happens.

No one seems particularly happy to allow the Sixth House heir to take charge of the seance, but none of them protest, either, perhaps grasping, however so briefly, the seriousness of the situation. What follows will be familiar to Natsuno: Palamedes calls out to the spirits of Abigail Pent and Magnus Quinn, begging them to return and share their blessed, vital knowledge with the rest. On cue, every necromancer slices their palm. The twins clasp bloody hands, and Silas presses his palms together in prayer, and Palamedes merely allows his blood to drip, drip, drip just inside the circle.

The florescent lights flicker, and for a moment it seems like something like happen.

But nothing does.

Natsuno resists the urge to film the ritual. There's something ridiculously dramatic about all these necromancers slicing their palms. It's also disgustingly appetizing.

His raises his eyebrows when the lights flicker, but just like in Camp Aion, nothing happens. Natsuno clears his throat and remarks politely:

"When my friends failed a seance, it was because someone more powerful was binding the spirits."

He has no idea if it applies here as well, but maybe he can use some of his Serena Eterna knowledge to help.

“The pet has opinions,” Ianthe drawls. Her sister giggles.

Almost in unison, Palamedes Sextus and Harrowhark Nonagesimus speak. “An interesting theory.” They lock eyes for a moment, and immediately agree never to speak of the moment. Pal does beckon Harrow over, and after a moment does the same to Natsuno.

In the background, Gideon stands, stretches, and drifts closer to her necromancer.

“Teacher warned us that something was down here,” Palamedes is saying.

“Teacher is a paranoid louse whose brain has been addled by solitude,” Harrow shoots back.

Pal shrugs. “Perhaps. But he’s probably also right. As is, I suspect, our new friend here.” Harrow purses her lips at this assertion and looks Natsuno over coolly, but doesn’t object. Pal turns to Natsuno. “Do you know very much about breaking wards?”

He doesn't even look at the Third this time. Palamedes doesn't bother, so engaging with them won't progress the memory to a conclusion. He makes his way to Pal when beckoned, standing a bit off from him and Harrow.

"More like very little," he admits. "If there's a drawn symbol you can destroy it, but I don't know how to do it safely."

According to Ava, the only reason he's in this memory to begin with is that someone sabotaged the sigils keeping the ship together.

Harrow looks unimpressed, but Palamedes offers Natsuno a brief, encouraging smile. "It was worth a shot. You're right about the symbols, but time is of the essence. We can't know running around Canaan House looking for the right ward to destroy when we know Lady Pent and her cavalier are drifting further and further away from us."

He folds his arms, considering their options. "Perhaps we can draw them with some object of significance. If you're not too squeamish," this is directed at Natsuno, "would you mind going through their pockets to see what they might have on them. Reverend Daughter, I'd appreciate your help re-setting the circle."

"This is desecration," hisses Silas Octakiseron. "If the House the Fifth discovers what you've done here, Master Warden--"

"Desecration was killing two of the kindest people I have ever met in cold blood," Palamedes shoots back, coolly calm. "This is an investigation. And one that Abigail Pent, a woman you barely knew, would support and encourage."

Now it's the Eight's turn to be stared at for a moment. A necromancer who's into soul siphoning calls going through a dead person's pockets desecration, really? Palamedes seems so normal compared to the rest of them.

"I'm not squeamish," he says blankly and kneels next to the bodies. There's nothing but cold efficiency in his movements - what's a dead stranger compared to a dear friend's brutalized corpse?

Maybe there is something in their pockets, but Natsuno's attention is caught by a certain scent. He kneels closer to the woman's body, and... huh.

"Master Warden. There's something inside Lady Pent. Made of metal."

Palamedes abruptly stops conversing with Harrowhark and looks at Natsuno with sharp eyes.

“I’m sorry, did you say inside?”

From there, a series of events happen in quick succession. First, Dulcinea Septimus faints into her cavalier’s beefy arms. Palamedes looks sharply towards her, frozen to the spot, torn between investigation and his instinct to protect this woman at all cost. Then, two teenagers, both fifteen at the oldest, come down the ladder; when they see Abigail and Magnus, they gasp and stumble back, and one of them soon begins wailing.

The Eight cuts through the noise. “Enough of this nonsense,” said the necromancer, rolling up his sleeves and stepping closer to decidedly larger cavalier. “Brother Colum,” he said.

“Ready, Brother Silas,” said the larger man.

Silas laid his hand on the other man’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, color seemed to drain from Colum—and soon, from the very world itself.

"Yeah, in her - "

Thump. The sickly-looking woman faints, Pal is distracted, some kids are crying and the pale weirdo is doing - something. It's extremely unpleasant. Right, that must be soul-siphoning.

"So crass," he murmurs, recalling one of the blonde women's comment from earlier.

The world blurs and the lights dim, but Silas seems to glow—and so does the corpse of Abigail Pent. Suddenly and horribly the body shuddered. Still in a swoon, Dulcinea cries out; so does Silas, opening his mouth and letting out a guttural sound like a man who had eaten hot iron.

And that’s when Protesilaus, the large cavalier standing beside the prone Dulcinea, steps forward and punches Silas in the face.

The moment the boy goes down, the lights crackle back to life and the strange feeling of cold nothingness recedes.

This is getting too much. The blur of glow and shadows hurts Natsuno's eyes, the pale boy's howls pound against his eardrums and his limbs feel heavy. He has the life sucked out of him again, not by sharp fangs but by magic and it's still terrifying. The punch to Silas' face comes as a relief...

...for about two seconds. Natsuno sits up and stares at Protesilaus. You could almost think he was protecting the sickly, wailing woman from being siphoned, but the scent -

His eyes narrow. He may not be a necromancer, but some things cannot escape his kind. When he speaks, it'a loud enough to be heard over the commotion.

"Anyone else notice that big guy's a reanimated corpse?"

All at once, everyone is staring at Natsuno. Ianthe cocks her head with interest. Harrow narrows her eyes. The Fourth House teens look at him with wide eyes and tear-stained faces. Even Naberius Tern drops his ‘bored jock with good hair’ act and perks up.

Dulcinea, still on the floor but now being supported by Gideon Nav on one side and Palamedes Sextus on the other, gives a tremulous little cough that breaks the silence. “He’s right. Protesilaus Ebdoma is dead.”

Movement returns to the room. The Third House trio begin to whisper amongst themselves; Silas hisses blasphemy, which makes Naberius snort and say, “You’re one to talk;” with a cry, Jeannmary runs at Protesilaus and punches him in the arm, which swings uselessly at his side.

This time, Harrowhark cuts through the growing chaos. “Explain,” she says, carrying the full weight of the Locked Tomb and its many mysteries in that single word.

Palamedes takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wipes Dulcinea’s face. She murmurs a thanks, and then speaks in an impressively strong voice. “I’m afraid to say that poor, sweet Pro was dead even before we left Rhodes. As you might surmise, the rumors are true: the Seventh House has been perfecting the way of the beguiling corpse for years and years and years. It’s just—not entirely allowed.”

She says this with a rueful kind of helplessness. But for a moment, just a moment, she locks eyes with Natsuno, and her gaze says something very different indeed:

Watch your step, or you’ll be next.

Ah. The frail-looking woman locks eyes with him and several things become clear: she's the culprit, she's dear to Palamedes who has no idea about her involvement, and she'll try to kill him if he says the wrong thing.

Natsuno should tread carefully, but will he? Fuck no. This murderer isn't just going to stand there and deceive his friend by swooning and batting her eyelashes.

Not a muscle moves in his poker face as he stares back at Dulcinea.

"Doesn't explain why you made poor sweet Pro punch the pale kid, though. Won't that make him miss Lady Pent's spirit?" He tilts his head, as if remembering something. "Oh yeah, you also fainted when I said there's something inside the body."

Edited 2023-03-26 19:01 (UTC)

“In the big lug’s defense, I’ve wanted to punch Octakiseron since we arrived on this God-forsaken planet,” Ianthe supplies.

Palamedes grimaces. He can’t disagree with that assessment, even if he politic enough not to say it aloud.

Beside him, Dulcinea’s smile could cut glass, though no one else seems to notice the danger of it. “Oh, you’ve got me!” she says with a wry laugh. “I timed my drop in blood pressure to perfectly coincide with—well, with whatever it is you’re claiming to have found.

“Yeah, what was that basement gremlin going on about, anyway?” Naberius chimes in, having clearly attended the same school of charm as his necromancer.

Feeling the room begin to turn—and not particularly pleased with the implications of Natsuno’s observations, either—Palamedes gently helps Dulcinea back to her feet and, once he is sure that she is steady, approaches Natsuno and speaks to him quietly. “The Duchess has been ill for quite a long time. Whatever it might have otherwise accomplished, Octakiseron’s soul siphoning could have killed her.” He looks over his shoulder and says to the room. “There’s a morgue on the third floor. Would one of you be so kind as to transport Lady Pent and Magnus the Fifth there for further examination?”

The Wind Came Out of the Cloud By Night

screwing over and gaslighting annabel lee

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bless ianthe, always so charming

She's a peach

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Ship!Palamedes is so proud of you, Natsuno

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