END GAME: THE COUNTDOWN STARTS

[sailmods]

[the prisoners wake up on cold, hard floors.

the lights are bright, glaring, a sterile cell with sterile bars facing a sterile hall. the prisoners with you, across from you, and no one else. no rocking of a ship in waves, nothing. just the prisoner and their prison.

time passes, one assumes. the rhythmic click of Friday’s heels down the hall. it’s almost like the ticking of a clock.]

Comments

[blindwatchersees]

What should he say? The little astronaut sounds like he doesn’t want to hurt others, but at the same time, his words suggest that perhaps compulsion, if not desire, put him at odds with the group’s escape.

He decides to be vague, until he can better understand what the child(?) needs to hear.

“A lot is going on below.”

[besixdouze]

"A lot, huh..." Vague to be sure, though he doesn't seem terribly put out by it. "...Hope it's a lot, of something good. They said they were going to free everyone...maybe, it's working..."

A pause for another breath...and now, a slight frown, unrelated to the wistful hopefulness of that first remark. Voyager blinks slowly, and his cloudy focus on the stranger sharpens a little as he peers over for a long moment. After all, even besides the pain, there's something...else? Here, right now. That he can't quite put a finger on. Though it's starting to niggle at him just a bit, as he notices it.

Can't really see it, not with sight, try as he might. But there's a feeling...isn't there?

"...Hey, mister...where's, the rest of you? Isn't there..." For the first time in a little while, Voyager attempts to move some part of the rest of his body, maybe turn over on his side for a better look. But in the end there's only the slightest shift, and a sharp wince right afterwards. "--Um. Or maybe...it's crammed so small. It's sort of, familiar...but I haven't met you..."

[blindwatchersees]

"There's usually a lot more of me. That woman took it, and put it somewhere where I can't reach it."

The shimmering particulates slowly dissipating from around this person makes him wonder if perhaps there's more to them than meets the eye.

"You can sense it, then? The presence beyond a mortal face?" That's strangely reassuring, to think that even now Malin hasn't wholly severed him from the Mantle. As he's speaking, Mac moves himself to help Voyager adjust his body as he tries, giving him what support he can manage.

[besixdouze]

The help is unexpected, and very appreciated. There's a second or two as if Voyager's holding his breath, even in this slight adjustment--a tremble through his frame, as the shattered pieces of his core shift minutely within, and the shimmering dust flickers a bit brighter (or perhaps thicker)--but, propped up even just a bit like this, he can stare at the stranger more easily, and that's well worth the extra pain. Drinking in the answer, and taking a moment to reflect upon it carefully, is a very nice distraction as well. The presence beyond a mortal face...

"...Mmhm. I can sense it. This face right now--isn't all yours? ...Mine isn't either. This one...belongs to a little prince, in a story." Frank and plain, once again; it's easier like this. Voyager gets an impression this person would understand what he means. "He travels, through stars too...like I am. So I don't mind. But, you..."

What is it...what is it? This vaguely familiar thing. He really does want to place it, at least before this stranger goes off to follow the others, as he's surely going to do quite soon.

"Does the rest of you, travel through stars too?"

[blindwatchersees]

"Not through stars, but amongst them. My divine body dances through the heavens, as I play tricks on my sibling-worlds. I have a moon who dances with me, too. A very handsome moon, who wears a mortal face and uses a mortal voice like I do. If he were here, he would help you, too, and then we would all have tea."

He's trying to be lighthearted, despite how clear it is that this spirit is in critical condition.

"What do you look for, through the stars?"

[besixdouze]

"Oh--like a planet? A planet, with a moon...?"

There's so very little energy for much of anything, at this point, but there's still enough of something to spark a shine in Voyager's eyes at this news. The way it clicks, and makes the perfect sort of sense, a precise fit to that nagging feeling at last. Yes, it was something like this person, he realizes now--Jupiter's glance, Saturn's song...

He wants to sit up, to leap to his feet, to take the stranger's hands and find out how they feel. (But if he could, he'd have to kill him, the thorn reminds--twists--and so the sense of frustration at his inability to move is promptly tempered by the reminder--)

"Wow...that's a lot of you taken away. But, that's amazing...really amazing..." Yes, he'll have to settle for a softly startled breath, instead, and a little smile that falls upon his features. "In the stars...I'm carrying, a message. For anything that can find me. Greetings, and sounds, and pictures...from home. It's called Earth. What are you called?"

The planet there, that is. Or the person too, that's here right now. One and the same anyhow, apparently, despite the forced separation presently...

[blindwatchersees]

So this spirit is a messenger, and a scout, then? An envoy, trapped here. It's a terrible thought, that such an entity would be trapped in such a scenario that could not carry out the very essence of their nymic. Sure, there are people on the ship to greet, but all things considered, that number is very small.

It feels instinctive, knowing what he should do in this situation- perhaps he was always more spirit than he gave himself credit for, even as a mortal. This messenger has come with greetings, and sounds, and pictures, so it would only be polite to return the same.

He takes a deep breath. Even without the Mantle, the words come easily, as Sheogorath taught him how to be Sheogorath before the state of things shifted. He takes one of Voyager's hands in his own, and conjures up as vivid a picture of his realm in his mind as he can manage.

"I am called the Shivering Isles, Sheogorath, the 'Mad Star.' I am one of sixteen sibling-worlds that move in the outer reaches of Oblivion. I am music and inspiration, I am depression and dread. I am the songs my people know without having heard them before. I teem with life. My structure is dense root, my terrestrial body formed from plant and fungus gathered together at the beginning of time, growing since ages immemorial. My core is a wellspring of spirit-water, which wells up to the surface and feeds all things."

"Humans and elves and Khajiit and Saxhleel came to me across the void from the world-sphere of Nirn, and the Aureal and Mazken spirit folk settled upon me when they found opportunity with me that their tribe-home worlds could not offer, but from my seas and wellsprings I birthed all manner of creatures as well. There are the Baliwog, little frog-pups that bury themselves in the mud and emerge as grummites, the frog-men, and then once they lay their eggs they in turn grow into hulking finned beasts called Scalon. The Elytra travel the hollows formed by my earth-roots, their gleaming carapaces the source of many coveted pheromones. The Gnarls are my spirit-kin, born of me and through me, formed of the earth-roots, to which they tend and to which they will return."

"My root-body dots the surface with fruiting mushroom-trees and all manner of plants and fungi. Almost all ecology is interwoven, a nervous system. My composition changes from north to south, from bright to dark, and along that gradient, life shifts, too. The Elytra of the north have emerald bodies with bright orange abdomens, while the southern elytra have bodies the color of a deep sea, and abdomens pale like moonlit quartz-sand. The Gnarl of the north have pale bark and red leaves, while their kin to the south are the color of damp mulch, their leaves a deep green. The mushroom trees of the north and south are orange and pale brown, respectively. The north is comprised of high hills, and the south, low-lands and marshes. Even the atmosphere differs based on latitude- the north sky glimmers in the daylight and burns bright pinks and purples at night, while the south sky is a misty blue that almost appears cracked, and it changes little with nightfall, save for that it darkens."

He pauses, giving Voyager time to ask more questions, or to give a message of his own.