sand in your eyes

[groundrules]

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

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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

Comments

pietro maximoff | mcu | tourist

[margenes]

(A)—A SANDING OVATION

[honestly? pietro is not a fan of this kind of weather and climate. sokovia was always on the more temperate side of things, with extremes of cold winters and hot summers. nothing quite this sandy, though.

he feels like he cannot find his bearings, and someone speaks to him like he is supposed to care or make much sense of things.

—wanda. where is his sister? he had left her at the church, promised her to come back for her once the entire city was evacuated.

coughing in the dry air, completely at a loss on what to do with both the pendant and mazyar, he tries to ask about her whereabouts, but is instead greeted with talk about war and dominion and beacons to transport them home.

pietro tires of the incessant talk and just speeds away, runs— to somewhere, but finds himself too tired to go too far. he crashes into another high dune and lies flat, face down, on it, even as mazyar spouts some more nonsense to pietro's ears, a few members of the caravan trying to reaching him to drag him back—literally drag him back on the sand—towards the caravan.

god, water would be nice.]

(B)—ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER

I'm looking for my sister—Wanda.

[this is the mantra that pietro starts repeating the moment the scavengers arrive. they give him cool cooling suits—which he is infinitely grateful for—water and food. he's rested, he can walk the desert just fine.

but every time he asks, he gets a shake of the head, and given instead something that tastes kind of like what sand would if it was cooked. it's filling enough, at least.

he jogs up to another one of the snail-like carriage mounts, hopping up on a protrusion that lets him hitch a ride while holding on to one of the ropes. he leans over close to the opening, waving and greeting the raider that holds onto the reins.]

I'm looking for someone. [the wind sweeps his hair, and pietro squints. he's going to get a sunburn he'll regret by nightfall at this rate.] Is anyone inside?

[all he gets is a noncommital response.]

(C)—SANDIMENTAL VALUE

[so far, this journey has been far from the adventure he would have loved for it to be; unfriendly surroundings, vicious hyenas, what more is there? he's far too hungry, but he can't really help it. still, he stores extra food, just in case he's ever in a pickle due to his fast metabolism.

it surprises him to see a woman walk beside him suddenly, looking very out of place.

pietro is kind to her, offering her some food, but she instead gives him something in return for it—her ashes, to be scattered. his expression is deeply troubled, but he's got his fair share of superstitions from home to have a sense of what to do here.

the hills are far, and pietro is one of those people who does before he thinks—no ropes, no climbing hooks, just a lot of stupid bravado and his speed to try and outrun the violent sand whirlwinds.

he's a man on a mission.]

I'll be right back.

[he cuffs a poor, unsuspecting witness to his suicide mission on the shoulder with a hand as he continues onwards. provided guidance would not be out of place for someone who is not used to tactical reasoning of his actions.]

(D)—OCTOPUS PRIME

Hang on!

[this is definitely an unusual to be looking at directly, but pietro has seen enough the past few days to figure that his idea of what the world is like does not matter. all that is important is surviving.

the tentacles that burst out from the pit make a quick job of trying to ensnare any living creature they can reach. but pietro is fast—faster than what the eye can see, even if in spurts, and he has enough fuel in himself to rush forward and get a poor soul out of harm's way, just about managing to run counterclockwise to remove the tentacle's grip from a person.

he's sweating, panting, as he reaches the inside of a crumbling residence. there are other scavengers here, so it should be a safe spot—for now. this climate is really not helping him with his attempt at superspeed spurts.]

—you — okay?

[he's leaning back against a wall, a hand on his chest as he catches his breath, but his pale eyes are purposeful. he wants to make sure no further harm has happened.

jus... give him a minute to catch his breath before holding a conversation.]

B

[westviews]

[--Wanda, she hears, in a voice she's known her whole life. It wouldn't be the first time she thought she heard her brother calling for her, but the sand and the wind and the general noise of the caravan nearly muffle it too much for her to be certain she heard it at all. She pauses from adjusting her suit, and then she hears it again.

It's harder to ignore when it's more than just her name.

--looking for someone--

It's too much. It's irritating, in a way, like sand in her boots. Wanda decides to hell with it, she has nothing to lose in putting her mind to rest, and heads towards where she thought she heard the voice. It takes effort, to catch up with the snail, but thankfully... it is a snail. Wanda can't properly see the person holding onto the ropes, just the suit, and she tells herself her heart is pounding because she just did a little jog and not because of anxious hope.]

You said you were looking for someone?

whomst

[margenes]

[pietro is left to scratch at his head as he gets a non-answer, after peering inside reveals people he doesn't recognize. he is running out of snails to check out, but—on the bright side—that just means that his scope in looking for his sister is smaller. after the snails... comes the sands.

if he cannot call that progress, then he might as well quit right now.

instead, just as he's thinking of hopping off the snail and continuing on to the next, someone seems to have taken heed to his plight. so, he turns,]

Yes, my sister, she—

[and finds himself staring down at the exact face he had been looking for. she looks much different from what he remembers—her hair, her eyes, but it's undoubtedly her. he would never not recognize her.]

Wanda.

[he hops off the snail and wobbles a bit on his feet as he lands awkwardly on the sand. pietro reaches his hands out to her, to cradle her face for a moment—and then brings her closer to himself into a tight hug, kissing her temple, keeping her within the radius of his arms.]

I was looking for you. Where were you hiding?

a secret

[westviews]

Pi--

[Pietro. Wanda's eyes go wide to see what is undoubtedly his face (she won't be fooled by another anytime soon, thank you Agatha), and she stiffens when he touches her. Something in her tells her to make him back off, blast him, but that would cause a scene she doesn't want to make. Draw too much attention.

Something louder, in her heart, recognizes this as something lost. His hands feel the same, he smells the same, his chest rises and falls the same as she remembers.]

Pietro?

[She can't even tell herself it's impossible, because her life tends to consist of the impossible becoming real. But this? This isn't her doing.]

♡

[margenes]

[unlike wanda, pietro has not been this far long without her. the experience he just had in these sandy dunes was already terrible, would not want that again. so, it feels unusual from her usual stoic way of accepting his embraces.

something feels wrong. how can he tell? some souls are just meant to resonate with one another.]

You okay?

[he draws back, keeping her at arm's length, still, but searching her eyes. this place is far too sandy—so, he pushes his hand into one of his many pockets and pulls out what he's determined to be a snack.]

I have some food. Do you need water? I'll get water.

[westviews]

[She is definitely not okay. He looks just as she remembers, her own eyes searching his before taking in the rest of his face. Hesitantly, a hand reaches to press her palm against his cheek.

Real, and warm. Real and alive. And not her doing.

Just when she thought nothing here could surprise her.]

How?

[Very helpful, Wanda. She's not even really asking him the question, simply--stunned, unable to process.]

[margenes]

[is wanda confused because of the sun? because of dehydration? he's certainly not opposed to his sister's hand on his cheek, but her question and the way she acts, it's...

confusing him in a worriedly kind of way.

first things first: he grabs at the part of his cooling suit that drapes like a cape and pulls it over wanda, providing her shade to cover her from the sun. he sidesteps, even, in order to make sure he gets the angle of the sun right. and then, he answers her question.]

They have these— flasks. Very cool. So... I'm sure I can [uh, he's looking around himself] ask for another and they will say okay.

[his eyebrows are raised, like he's ultimately at a loss on what to do here to help. he hopes he is doing enough.]

Wanda?

[westviews]

[She's been hydrating, thank you very much. Her hand drops, but her gaze remains on him. Everything about him rings true. His voice, his mannerisms, his appearance. It's no trick.

Vanessa had said this world had a way to bring up your past and lay it out for all to see, more or less. She was right.

She ignores the talk about the flask and the attempt to shade her from the sun in favor of belatedly returning that hug, clutching him tightly and curling her fingers into the fabric of the suit at his back. As she squeezes her eyes shut, she takes a deep breath, willing herself not to cry.

She won't be so hydrated if she does that, after all.]

Pietro. I've missed you.

[margenes]

[it feels a lot like they aren't in sync in the same way he remembers them being.

which draws upon him the question—as he brings his arms down, letting go of the cape, and around wanda's form, hugging her tightly—of how long she has been here. there's an emotion in the way she clutches at him that makes his heart ache, but he isn't sure why.

pietro presses a kiss to the top of her head and keeps her close, speaking without the usual lilt of humor and snark in his voice.]

I'm here now.

[hesitantly—]

Sorry that I was gone long enough for you to miss me.

[westviews]

[He's the past. She had to bury him, put him away, and live her life without him. Another kiss and the seriousness in his voice is almost enough to break the dam and get the water flowing, but she simply squeezes him tighter and takes a shaky breath.

Sorry that I was gone long enough for you to miss me. It's a knife between her ribs.]

It's not your fault.

[He saved people. Saved Clint. Pulling back, Wanda presses her hand to his chest.]

You're not hurt anywhere?

[Like she didn't just try to constrict him like a boa, but her brain is fumbling and stumbling over itself right now.]

[margenes]

[who's the one acting like the older sibling, now? pietro makes a face, offers a half grin and a shrug as she puts a hand to his chest. his own hands linger—one on her elbow, the other on the hand that isn't on his chest.]

Should I be? I'm mostly tired and hungry. It's this sun—

And the food isn't that great.

[his brow pinches for a moment, a snail-carriage moving past them slowly, its shadow giving them momentary respite from the sun.]

I last remember leaving you in the church. [he nods] Get everyone out and come back for you.

[westviews]

[They should walk, keep up with the shade and not draw any attention to themselves, but what he says has her rooted to the spot.]

The church? And nothing after that?

[Because she certainly remembers there being more.]

[margenes]

Other than arriving here and looking for you?

[pietro shakes his head.]

No, nothing after that. Which, actually, [he tilts his head to the side] is a little confusing for me, so I'm trying to ignore it. [as in, it makes him feel not so great that he left the battlefield so abruptly, that he doesn't know what's going on over on that end of things— it gives him a headache to think about, so he doesn't.] How long have you been here for?

[westviews]

Oh, Pietro.

[He doesn't know. Doesn't remember. Or perhaps it has yet to happen to him. Wanda's hold on his hand tightens.]

About a month. Not very long at all.

[Nothing compared to the decade apart. Abruptly, she realizes she must look like a different person to him, now. Older. Different hair. Different heart, maybe.]

[margenes]

It seems much longer. You look a little different.

[her thoughts—actually—compound with his own. he's not sure he can put his finger on it, but she's definitely not looking the same as he last left her at the church.

his frown doesn't ease.]

What is this place, anyway? How are we here?

[westviews]

[Her lips press together, words escaping her. She needs to tell him. Tell him he's dead and she had moved on as best she could, but she'd thrown away everything good and now had nothing.

Instead, she shifts her hold to his arm, pulling him along with her as she decides they should walk.]

It's a different world from our own.

[Now she's beginning to wonder if it's some strange afterlife.]

[margenes]

[he lets himself be pulled by her as they walk onward and forward, following the path set by the scavengers and their snail carriages. pietro could have figured out by himself that it's a "different world", but such statement feels like such an impossibility to him.

like speaking a different language altogether.

pietro certainly is anchored to the very grounded aspect of the world, miracles as he and his sister were called; none of this cosmic, magical, multiversal bullshit.]

Okay. That explains nothing to me.

[he laughs, though, brushing it off and pulling up the short scarf over his mouth. he doesn't want sand in his mouth when the wind picks up.]

I was never smart about these things, you know that.

[which is why he's trying to ignore the difficult parts of it entirely.]

[westviews]

[Wanda can barely focus on having a conversation. She keeps staring at his face, and can't fathom having to tell him anything that's happened over the years, let alone the fact that he never came back to get her.]

I'm still figuring it out myself. [She says at last, though it comes at length, her brain screaming at her to try and retain some sense of normalcy. For him.

Because she can't even entertain the thought of breaking his heart so soon.]

But I think we're here to help.

[margenes]

[her answer, whether honest or partly the truth, seems to be enough for pietro. if he thinks that they are on the same page about the situation, about their circumstances, then he can stop trying to figure it out right now (impatient as he may be) and focus, instead, on figuring it out together with her in time.

pietro does his usual, which is holding her hand in his, wrapping his fingers tightly around her hand.]

Good thing we are Avengers, then. [he really liked the title! the possibilities, the good they could do—] I like helping.

[here, he offers her a smile, the scarf ducking out of place.]

[westviews]

[He died an Avenger. She lived on to become the very enemy the Avengers would battle. It hurts, and she realizes this whole conversation, this whole interaction, hurts. There's joy here, of course, of holding her twin's hand and talking to him and having this second chance, but she's had second chances, before. Third chances. And they've all been ruined, either by herself or simply fate deciding she wasn't deserving of happiness.

How can this last?

Wanda is quiet for a moment too long before responding.]

Just promise me you'll be careful. No matter what happens here.

[margenes]

This again?

[after her long silence, she offers him more of her usual goading to be careful. how many more times does he have to remind her that he's the older of the two, to let him take over the looking after?

as per usual, he ignores the gravity of her request, shrugging his shoulders.

there is something else that bothers him more, after all. the idea that's been encroaching in his mind that something is wrong with his sister—something she is not telling him about.]

You sure you are okay? Was it a rough month out here in the desert? It is very different from home.

B

[traumatology]

( ordinarily, he'd just ignore the kid. he's looking for someone, he's asking every single person that crosses his path and he's getting nowhere.

but he doesn't stop trying. he's committed, at least. but bucky's getting the feeling that whoever he's looking for isn't here.

until — that name. wanda isn't an all together uncommon name but still. what are the odds? )

Did you say Wanda?

( he can't stop himself from asking the question and drawing the kid's attention over to him. )

[margenes]

[getting his question kind of echoed back to him makes pietro do a double take and look back at the man who spoke—with a very distinct american accent. pietro falls back, turning to see him.

there's a hopeful look on his face.]

Yes, she's my sister. You know her?

[traumatology]

I know someone named Wanda.

( well, he knows of her. he wouldn't say they're super close or anything despite their similarities. )

She worked with someone I know. But, don't know if it's the same person. Wanda's not that uncommon a name.

[margenes]

[ah, sure. wanda could be a common name—though pietro would say that he's never met anyone called that but his sister before. still, the man is not someone he immediately recognizes, so perhaps it's just a coincidence.]

Sorry, my sister has not worked a day in her life.

[said lightly, almost jokingly. it's not wrong; the twins have never held a job (and pietro is unawares of the possibilities of a world where people from the future would be here.]

I am going to take it as a good sign that the name is familiar to someone, at least. I will not give up.