westwhere | sand in your eyes

sand in your eyes

And onwards, through the cursed desert. The mini-journey Arc covers 6-21 January and doubles as a test drive meme. Participants do not need an invite to apply this round. Have fun!

SAND IN YOUR EYES

TEST DRIVE TOURISTS | ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER
A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND | SOILMATES | A PYRAMID SCHEME

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A SANDING OVATION

Sand in your eyes, down your throat, stifling. You wake half-buried in high dunes, crawling towards helping hands. Thirst vanquishes you.

You are quickly offered a translation and communication pendant and introduced to the leader of the caravan that saved you — good Mazyar, who thanks the stars for your most incredible luck to be rescued by his generous and humble self. For he is not a man for idle praise, but he has sold salt to salt makers, he was courted by seven of the five great trade guilds and brought peace to the Stairs of Sighs…

Mazyar reveals you are in Akhuras, where undead lieges seek to weaponise you in their war for dominion. Mazyar’s good but less successful friend, the elusive Merchant ferries otherworlders east, where ancient beacons can transport them home.

Retire for now and regain your strength. Come morning, further otherworlders will arrive from Serthica — and your journey may begin.

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ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER

The veteran party reunites with newcomers in the desert, and with the merchant Mazyar — who once guided them through the Stairs of Sighs. His caravan is protected by the Scavengers —deathly a tribe of hardened desert raiders. They bring water flasks, supplies, cooling suits and tents to share. Their snail-like carriage mounts can transport the weak.

You are bound for the seized citadel of Alem, swarmed on each side by undead battalions. To access it, you must obtain one of the enormous sand worms that trawl the deserts, which can be deployed to create underground passageways.

The Scavengers will lead the caravan through haunted dunes, the worms’ traditional hunting grounds and temple-fortress Uruksithar.

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A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND

The group first reaches the Valley of Unchaining, bordered by high cliffs and fang-like stones. Here and there, discover bloodied footprints, half-buried shackles and red chains. You might even stumble upon an eroded tombstone inscribed, H R SL EP THE UNCH IN D. At its feet are dulled dagger blades and rough calcar stone.

COULD DIE FROM LAUGHTER

You fool, never eat alone. Happen by the camp’s outskirts with your dinner, and you might glimpse the silhouettes of starved desert hyenas, their eyes glistening green. They will come close if you bear raw meat or bleeding wounds.

■ Scavengers say, if you see the hyenas, throw them food or a cloth drenched in fresh blood, then run without looking back until you no longer hear their cruel cries.

■ Some hyenas mimic rasped human voices, begging help or calling your name. One feeble hyena wears a chain of red shackles around its neck.

■ If you look back while chased, you find the green stare of the hyenas fixed upon you. You are gradually overcome by starvation, violence and the urge to dismember prey and feast on raw flesh. Player’s choice on whether characters can resist this compulsion, which disappears at dawns, or if they taste blood.

■ Scavengers will deny you entrance into the camp if you appear possessed in this way.

SANDIMENTAL VALUE

You walk the Valley, Scavengers say, and Mother Death walks with you. A once handsome crone might appear beside you, bare-footed and dressed in clean linens. She remains silent unless spoken to and flinches if you move suddenly, as if she fears being struck.

■ Treat the Crone kindly, and she entrusts you with a small pouch holding a fraction of her ashes, which she wants scattered from the hills.

■ Use rope and climbing hooks and take cover behind stone formations. Beware the violent sand whirlwinds that batter the cliffs, threatening to plunge you down or choke you with sand.

■ If you succeed, the Crone appears to watch her scattering ashes and bless you with good luck for the rest of your journey. Your kindness, she says, reminds her of her daughter.

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SOILMATES

The three-day walk to Uruksithar traverses the sand worms’ hunting grounds, where dunes shift periodically in sharp, tectonic waves. Watch your step and don’t be surprised if your tent sinks at night.

■ The Scavengers organise daily reconnaissance parties in the desert hills. Stay with them to unbury dune treasures.

■ The brave & brazen can try to catch sand worms. The massive creatures erupt overground periodically, catching prey in their large mouths, or crushing it beneath their heft as they plunge in the depths — creating large sinkholes in the process.

■ On its back, each sand worm has a few darker scales that draw the shape of a rune. To tame a sand worm, you must find its rune, then write the symbol on the worm’s back using blood from your hands. Report your catch by 23:59 on 17 January!

■ The sand worm bonds with you for three weeks until the next full moonrise, or until you draw the same rune on your cut hand.

■ Those who secure a sand worm find it grudgingly follows them underground for the rest of the journey. The creature can only be steered or ridden.

■ Some sand worms are vicious, old and sufficiently magical to retaliate by taking the link over and forcing their bonded humans to experience their lives — briefly sensitive to light and strong sounds, or unable to speak. Some might experience mild fevers. All symptoms disappear when the bond breaks.

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A PYRAMID SCHEME

At last, welcome to Uruksithar, former jewel of the desert — now reduced to rusted gates and tattered walls of wind-lashed stone.

The abandoned palace-fortress features a row of minor temples and barren gardens that surround a great, ruinous pit. The state of residential furnishings suggests the grounds were lived mere years prior. Walk north to find a a large pool of thickened black water that exudes a cold, unsettling presence. Veteran party members know what to expect.

Nail scratches on some temple walls read, we, who did not sleep or i ask the wind to grieve our chains. By the pit, a stone plate helpfully says, drop by drop, even base water turns to poison.

The Scavengers disperse to raid the temples, advising you to carry water everywhere. One raider mentions that the local Temple of Ra’esh stores silver waters that can woo sand worms.

OCTOPUS PRIME

Uruksithar’s great gong strikes every two hours, to groans and shudders from the abyssal pit. Scavengers immediately take cover behind walls, bind themselves to columns or rush into crumbling residences.

■ For five minutes, as the gong sounds a pathetic dirge, a bouquet of tentacles erupts from the pit, sweeping nearby streets to capture living things.

■ Throwing water on the tentacles forces them to retreat, while black liquid from the northern pool burns them down. Further tendrils emerge until the gong quiets.

■ Should you fall into the pit, use your climbing hooks to latch onto the walls and don’t look down. A grotesque, sharp-toothed mouth awaits below to devour you, amid the squelching sounds of the tissue and material it has been masticating for decades. It won’t give up its lunch easily.

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TOMB AND GLOOM

Ra’esh the Bright-maker, he who saw but peace beneath the skies. His humble temple is anonymous among numerous worship grounds. Scavengers say, four years ago, a wanderer sculpted an eye with a sun for a pupil on the entrance door. Take a torch and head in.

■ Long-stripped of its glory, the maze-like Temple of Ra’esh is now cold stone, stale window-less corridors and heavy doors that snap down from the ceiling.

■ Distant susurrations of water point you towards your destination.

■ As you walk in, pay attention to the engravings near the entryway of each temple room. Some depict arrows, forecasting spikes will burst up from floors tiles. Sculpted drops hint pouring water in this spot will open a door. Open a door with an engraving of large serpents, and… well. The engravings can help characters navigate the maze and completely avoid its traps. Feel free to make up your own engravings & traps, if you want!

■ The altar room contains a pool with pearlescent waters that surround a woman fully bandaged in gauze, her sight obscured. She is bound to a column with chains and shackles akin to those found in the desert. Rare peeks of her skin show it rotting or sickly pale.

■ She asks either if you are her mother, come for her at last. Do you engage?

■ Take water from the pool, and you can lure a sand worm to you once you have exited Uruksithar. Hazed, but sweet-tempered, it will follow you underground and allow you to ride it for the three weeks until the next full moonrise. These sand worms won’t give you a hard time during the bond period. Report your worm too by 23:59 on 17 January!

NOTES

■ Test driving & in-game characters can top level logs here — test driving characters can also put up network posts in this space c:

■ Feel free to investigate the mystery of the chains and shackles, but no pressure — it’s not critical to Arc V.

■ Hit up NPCs!

■ Navigation top.

QUESTIONS

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𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍

[ The dead—and the undead, equally—are familiar to her. She was surrounded by death on Dathomir, by the memory of slaughter. Her sisters, her family, all taken from her by war and cruelty. The Nightbrothers of Dathomir remained, yes, but of her coven, she was the last. And so it had been, her fate from childhood, as she tread a dark and lonely path of vengeance. Until Cal Kestis—an awakening, a twist of fate, a path forward. The universe beyond her world was forbidden by her clan, outsiders were not tolerated. But left alone, Merrin wished to see it all, and to understand those who might so strongly desire to protect it.

A path forward suddenly halted by—this; sand and desert heat and a gathering of people she does not know nor trust. Yet, they are all that they have. Having trusted too easily once (the simple and desperate faith of an orphaned child), Merrin is cautious and guarded, but wishes to be helpful nonetheless.

That sense of purpose leads her to seek more understanding of their present circumstances. So, she finds herself examining the cliffs, the rocks, the bloodied footprints. A few dagger blades are inspected, the palm of her hand curving carefully around the dull edges. ]

Here sleep the unchained— and they do not sleep alone. Or they awaken, perhaps.

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎

[ Mother Death is to be her companion this day, then. A comfort, in Merrin's mind, as she has little to fear of the dead (so she thinks). After all, the dead were hers and all that remained for so long, bundled together and able to be resurrected by the dark magick of Dathomir that had once been wielded with ease by those of her clan. She'll speak kindly to Mother Death now, with respect and curiosity.

When given, the pouch of ashes is held reverently in the palm of Merrin's hand. The task requested of her may not yield a way out of their circumstances nor prove useful in propelling their mission forward, but it feels of the utmost importance now. The gentle woman is dead, yet one wish remains to settle her soul. This, she thinks, bears little thought to act upon. ]

You will be at peace and put to rest today. I promise this.

[ An easy task for someone who can simply teleport to the top of the hill. Yet, this is a new world to her, one she has yet to explore and she wishes to. So instead, she will take the long way to the hilltop, welcoming of company in her quest. ]

𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚋 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖

[ Another curiosity, this temple. One among so many in recent days. Few answers have revealed themselves, yet the questions multiply. She has no need of immediate revelations, but if she is to be trapped here for the foreseeable future, Merrin seeks at least some semblance of control, some minute sense of understanding about their surroundings. It is that thought which compels her to continue exploring, and which leads her to this Temple of Ra’esh of which the scavengers murmur.

What awaits them in the dark corridors beyond, she cannot know. Yet, she does not fear it. Not yet. Holding a torch in her hand, she will speak boldly to any passers-by. ]

You would not wish me to go alone, would you?

[ ooc: I am happy to plot a more custom starter if you prefer so please feel free to PM me or ping me on plurk @

geekorthodox ]

Edited 2023-01-09 13:02 (UTC)

[ He thinks it’s a hologram, at first, the form of a grey flickering light talking to the woman in the sand. He watches from a distance for a few seconds, until she see the crone reach out and give something to the woman, something solid where she is not.

His eyebrow raises and he pulls his scarf in closet around his throat and mouth, deciding then and there to answer to his own curiosity, and trudge up the dune to where the now-burdened woman is standing. ]

What was she? [ He asks as he approaches, tugging his scarf down enough to bare his lips, already feeling dry. ]

Sorry, I saw you speaking - is she what I think she is?

[ He gives a lopsided smile. ] Feels strange to even think the words, but - were you speaking to a ghost?

[ Far from strange for Merrin; for much of her life, she's been more acquainted with the dead than the living. Though her beloved dead did not speak to her, could not manifest in a ghostly image such as the old woman, she is familiar with the dead that are not dead, that are instead...beyond.

She glances over her shoulder to the man, managing a small, brief smile. ]

A ghost, yes. A mother. She wishes to be put to rest. [ Merrin shows him the pouch of ashes briefly, before tucking it carefully into a flap on her tunic. It would be easy to lose in the fierce winds surrounding them. ]

I saw you before. We arrived together. [ A gentle smirk then. ] You've survived this far, that must be good fortune, yes?

[ It will take a while for his head to wrap around the concept of a ghost - but then it is also grappling with the undead, and magic, and everything else. Best way forward is just to roll with it. ]

Better fortune than to not have, sure.[ He offers her a rueful look at that.] But good to meet you, officially. I’m Brasso.

[ He doesn’t offer a hand to shake, it isn’t custom where he’s from. Instead, he glances at the ashes now carefully wrapped back up in cloth. ]

Where did she want to be taken? It’s dangerous out here - better to go together than alone.

[ Their path forward is an uncertain one. Not only to scatter the ashes of the kindly old woman, but what lies beyond in the city of the dead. Better to have as many allies as possible, she thinks, and so she will accept the offered assistance for the chance to know him better. Challenging journeys have a way of revealing the character of others, after all. It is also why she refrains from mentioning that she could simply teleport to the top of the hill. Should the route prove perilous, she will reconsider, of course. ]

Up there, to be scattered from the hills. [ Merrin glances upward to the craggly rocks, the hills obscured by a tumult of sand. ]

I think it a peaceful place of rest, don't you? Overlooking the valley. [ Her Dathomirian accent is clipped, slightly halting, though she doesn't recognize his own accent well enough to place him, having barely ventured beyond Dathomir. ]

Should we die atop the hill, I'll be glad for the company. [ Merrin pauses for the count of three seconds before smirking. An attempt at humor. Surely her companion will appreciate it. ]

Our fortune turns again, Brasso, for our paths to cross here. A good omen, I think. I'm Merrin, from Dathomir.

Edited (make it make sense) 2023-01-13 19:33 (UTC)

[ It takes him a moment to recognize her joke, but when he does he gives her a bemused smile. He’s about to banter back when she continues.

He doesn’t recognize the name immediately, though something at the back of his mind tells him that it’s familiar. When it finally clicks, he blinks, coming to a halt to look at her. He’s still used to almost everyone here having been from somewhere far, far from home, but: ]

Dathomir? In the Outer Rim?

He’d never been there, knew almost nothing about it save as a word that sometimes appeared on star charts and sometimes didn’t - too remote and likely too obscure for most to care. And even then, he isn’t sure - maybe he heard wrong, or read wrong, but there’s a piece of him that desperately wants to be right. ]

I’m from Morlana One. In the Free Trade Sector.

[ He gestured to himself with a tense sort of excitement - Finn had been a wonder to find, but to find someone else - ]

Do you know it?

Edited 2023-01-15 21:29 (UTC)

The Outer Rim, yes.

[ There is a look in the man's eyes that feels familiar, like a feeling she had known only recently when meeting Cal, Cere, Greez. Their journeys had all brought them together in mysterious ways, yet she had been thankful for the purpose and companionship that being with them had given her. She worries for them now, wonders what's happened and how she'd wound up here alone.

Perhaps Brasso will understand more, if the look in his eyes is any indication. So many others here have not understood her explanation of her home, have been from places not remotely familiar. He knows the Outer Rim, so that gives her hope, too. ]

I do not know of Morlana One, but I have known only Dathomir until recently.

[ So, there is much she has yet to learn. It also makes her perhaps more transparent and less secretive than she should be (her lack of being exposed to anything beyond the only home she's known), though she fully believes she has little to fear if the Empire finds them here. There are other dangers to confront. ]

I was traveling with...people. [ She hesitates on the word. Perhaps they would be friends. She thinks of them as such, but it is a foreign notion to her as well. ] On the Mantis. Do you know of the Empire?

Edited 2023-01-16 21:43 (UTC)

[ His heart almost skips a beat with the sudden conflicting emotions. He forces himself to move his feet, to resume their solemn trudge upwards, if only to give him a moment to reply. He couldn’t tell by her voice how she felt about the Empire, and last thing he wanted was to get himself in hot water with an Imperial that didn’t have anywhere else to vent their frustration.

However, she clearly wasn’t human, so that already put her on the side of probably not Imperial. Still, it was best to be cautious.

He finally gave a rolling shrug in reply, hoping to come off as casual with a hint of wary instead of the intensely wary he actually felt. ]

I know it. We were just recently put back under direct imperial control.

[ There. A relatively neutral reply, he hoped. ]

The people you were travelling with - were you all heading deeper into the Empire? I would have thought the outer rim prefers to keep to itself.

[ Slightly less neutral, but oh well. ]

[ This man, then, knows of which she speaks. They have a shared knowledge that feels strangely comforting. On a distant world, this strange place, they are bound together by familiarity with a loathsome regime.

She continues to walk, though she glances over her shoulder briefly, eyes darkening with memories. ]

Yes. It does. I was raised to reject the rest of the galaxy and outsiders were considered dangerous to my people. But war came to us as it will to all. My family, my friends, they were slaughtered during the Clone Wars. I buried them and I was all that remained.

[ Her head turns forward again as they continue, and when she speaks of the massacre, it's with both a haunted softness and a measured detachment. She feels deeply for those she's lost, but it is a truth she will always carry and she has learned to bear the weight. She cannot escape the pain of it, but she imagines Brasso has his own pain, as do all who know of the Empire.

She is less neutral, of course, but her open disdain for the Empire comes from knowing (or believing, at least) that her magick would be strong enough to stand against them. ]

I could not remain on Dathomir any longer. I wish to know the galaxy and those who fight for it now.

[ He feels something in him relax, give way, even if she hasn’t outright said she hates the empire he can almost feel it. He’ll have to still be wary, but now at least he can show where he leans, a little bit. ]

My birth parents died during the Clone Wars too, [ He offers, though he was too young to understand what was going on at the time. ]

And we all suffer under the Empire now. But there are people who are fighting.

[ Even if a few days ago he wouldn’t have counted himself among them. ]

[ This passer-by is taking his sweet time, ambling along with an almost-too-cautious supply of water: several flasks and one sizable jug. He looks pale, for someone who's just spent several days in the desert. His eyes are downcast—if she observes for a minute or two, she'll see his attention's on the base of the building. The stones, where they meet the ground. Sometimes he nudges them with his boot.

He's about to move on past the entrance when she calls out. ] Oh. [ The slightest of pauses as Jimmy squints and takes her in. Those sporting face tatts are not to be fucked with, a piece of wisdom he suspects applies in every universe, but it's grating to be played for a sucker. ] I'm meeting someone. Sorry. [ He pulls an apologetic-looking face. ]

[ The man's overabundant supply of water draws a briefly raised eyebrow from Merrin, as do his words. He is wise to be prepared, yet those overly cautious are often ill equipped to actually survive. She makes silent note to herself to keep an eye on him. Whatever awaits them beyond, he may require considerable assistance.

She does glance down to the base of the building before looking at him again, her eyes narrowed for a moment. ]

Then the three of us will go together. [ She may or may not be joking, for as dry as her tone is. ] There is safety in numbers. Or do you fear it, the Temple?

[ Correct on all counts!

Undaunted by her naked skepticism—but also not about to turn his back to her—Jimmy glugs over to the temple's entrance and finds the shadiest-looking nook with a nice, cool wall to lean against, even pressing his arms against the stone. Which still leaves him with her question.

It's a trick question—obviously—and as he thinks it over, his demeanor slowly shifts: from wariness to amusement. Jimmy cracks a smile. ] Where're you from?

[ She had intended the question partially to test his mettle (she needs to know what strengths—or not—lie within their traveling party) and partially to inject a moment of humor where little may otherwise be found, given their present circumstances. His reaction is one to be admired, in her mind. Feeling no particular annoyance that he's dodged her query, Merrin is more than happy to follow his line of questioning instead. One need not always answer what's been asked, particularly when it pertains to what they fear.

There is something to be said for standing in the shade, as well, and so she draws closer, but keeps a comfortable distance between them. ]

Dathomir, in the Outer Rim. [ The man—well, she can't begin to guess his home world, not only because she is blind to many of the planets out there, but because much of his nature remains a mystery. He is certainly no Jedi. ]

And you—tell me of your home. Have you arrived here recently? I suspect so, the way you struggle. You need assistance to survive, I think.

[ This is her, offering aid, in a...roundabout way. ]

[ The reason he's asking—a piddly little reason, but a reason—falls by the wayside when she comes out with a name that doesn't ring even the most distant of bells. He can't even—Russian? Outer Rim of what? The confusion, plain on Jimmy's face, is mingled with interest. ]

Dathomir. [ He comes down hard on the A, takes a shortcut across the O. Trying out the word. ] Huh. Okay. You're the first Dathomirian I've had the pleasure of meeting, would you believe.

[ —which should be an opening for what he's been gearing up to say, but: ] What? [ Jimmy's smile hangs on half a second too long, then crumples into something resentful. His gaze darts past her, to the sun-bleached ruins all around them. The words come quicker than before, flustered. Someone is infinitely more familiar with criticism than offers of help. ] I'm from the city, that's all. I know how to, uh, get out of parking tickets and not fall down elevator shafts, not ride worms and run from hyenas.

[ The cries of the pack are intermittent late into the evening, seeming to bounce off the craggy rocks beyond the camp. In the stretches of silence between their cackles, a trembling whisper pleads from where the beast's shadows hunch and lurk across the rocky sand.

"Merrin? Is that you?"

Another shadow, taller than the rest, darts between the looming rocks scattered near the base of the cliff.

A second voice, softer and younger, whimpers.

"Help! Help me!"

Howls of laughter cascade from the pack as they circle, and from behind them, something that might be human lurks, stalking their shadows.

Make your move, traveler. ]

[ She walks the forbidden paths alone in the dark. Fear should halt her steps, but she is as one with the night. Though this world holds many secrets, and her sisters lie buried far from here, their memory is carried with her and their shared magick is eternal. It will aid her in her journey here, of that she is certain.

The creatures that lurk are unfamiliar to her, their sounds abundant and unsettling, yet her need to understand her surroundings overrides any thought that she should turn back. She has only ever known a life on Dathomir, where she reigned alone, where all enemies were easily vanquished. She should reconsider her steps, perhaps, but she doesn't.

Her whispered name—wielded as a weapon—finally halts her. She stands stiff, tense, with the fingers of her right hand spread out like a claw, the palm of her hand angled down towards the sand, a faint green glow emanating from her fingers.

Should anyone truly be in need of aid, she would attempt to give it, but this moment bears an ill omen. There will be blood tonight. ]

I did not give you my name.

[ It has been given to others here, the few she's met. Yet, what stalks the shadows does not have permission, does not have the right for such familiarity. ]

Show your face.

[ A red shackle drags against the sand in the moonlight as a feeble hyena trots from behind one of the rocks, then slinks off to the side. The voice of an older child, perhaps a teenager, sobs from behind one of the hyenas when their laughter mellows.

"Please, help! I can't do this alone."

Green eyes glint low against the sand as other hyenas shift in the shadows, a few following the feeble chained one while others quietly tread only meters away. They don't draw near, but something else does.

The lurking figure moves fast, circling around behind the jagged rocks for further cover before lunging at Merrin with a mechanical hiss of steam and a flash of blue light emanating from two massive gauntlets—one of which is outstretched to try and grab for Merrin to flatten her against the cliffside, using enough force to kill a human in one hit. Illuminated in the flash of light is a snarling Vi, with her steel-blue eyes reflecting the light of the gemstone enough to glow in the dark. ]

[ Attuned to her magick, Merrin senses the creature coming for her before she even hears the hiss. She would have no need to see a face at all, but to be taunted as she is, her attacker should declare itself before it meets its fate under the sands. She's owed that. Whatever this thing is, will be bloodied and buried, to go back to the shadows.

Over her shoulder, a flash of movement, the shadows disperse, the air parts and crackles. In her lungs, a pleasant burn, a heaviness that's familiar, a power that begs release.

There's no time to register how large the weapon is that seeks to fell her, though it matters not. In an instant, an eerie green glow bursts from her fingers, stopping the weapon before it can even touch her. She brings her other hand around, summoning and commanding an ancient power rooted in her soul. Her attacker won't be able to move, at least for the moment, but Merrin is thrown off when her eyes focus enough to catch the face staring back at her.

A crazed woman with her own power, but for what purpose and to what end? Slaughter for the sake of it? She knows that well enough. But they are strangers here in the dark; a question, then—why?

Merrin leans in closer, her jaw tense, eyes dark with restrained fury. She would kill the other woman if it comes to it, but she thinks a madness is at play here. If she must kill, let it be when they are both of their right minds. ]

You hunt me. Why?

[ Does she even know? There's a soft hissing sound that lingers between them, their dual powers colliding, while Merrin still effortlessly holds back the attack. ]

[ The force with which the barrier halts her advance stuns Vi at first, leaving her standing there in momentary confusion as she finally seems to blink. Why? Behind the reflection of blue and green light, there's a flicker of lucidity in her eyes. They widen, and she parts her lips. ]

I'm—

[ Vi. She's Vi. This isn't her.

But that thought's quickly lost as her eyes glaze over, and she snaps at Merrin's face with a whiny snarl better suited to a dog—or a hyena—only inches away and clearly vying for blood. Any exposed flesh is fair game if she can just get past this barrier.

With another metallic whir signaling that the other gauntlet is ramping up, Vi launches her other fist forward, hoping a second punch will be enough to break whatever kind of tech or magic this lady's using. ]

[ The second attack is stopped in its tracks, though Merrin spares a thought of admiration for the skill she possesses. She is gone mad, then, as suspected. Consumed by the beasts that stalk them. Not like them in the form she takes, but of them now in her nature. Unexpectedly, she speaks one word and it suggests to Merrin perhaps there is something left of her true nature, yet her turn once more to violence is swift. Merrin has seen beings overpowered by forces they can't control or don't understand; in the case of Malicos, he had chosen to be taken by the darkness.

The girl before her meant to speak on her own behalf, but whatever force is at work here halted her. She has taunted Merrin, yes, hunted her, and she is ready to harm or kill her. A decision must be made swiftly because while Merrin's power is strong, this is a fight, and she can feel the power contained in the opposing weaponry. If she had more time to think, she'd be fascinated and curious about it, but a snarling visage looms close and Merrin looms closer in turn, briefly.

A choice is made; her opponent will not be killed, not while a measure of who she was still exists. She may be wrong and she may bear a terrible price for the miscalculation, but Merrin will not kill what has been controlled against its will, if it can be helped. Abundant, rippling streaks of green mist now flow between them and Merrin is mere inches away, unafraid of the threatening bite. ]

You have my name but not who I am. You will know me before the night ends. I do not wish to kill you, but hear this: if you must die, I vow a swift end. You did not choose this fate.

[ With that, Merrin pulls back, closing her eyes briefly before daring to move one hand, waving her fist in a flourish and using her power to lift her attacker from the ground and fling her against the cliff wall. The injuries she sustains will be necessary. If her suspicions are correct, it will be the only way to pull her out of the spell that's taken hold. ]

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sand in your eyes

Merrin | Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order

sandimental value

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tomb and gloom

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the wildcard you didn't order but are getting anyway

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