12302/15 Fears: Poisoning the Well

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
15 Fears: Poisoning the Well
Date of Scene: 02 August 2022
Location: The Astral Plane
Synopsis: After travelling in the Astral for some time, Jon comes across a village in peril. More peril than he, or anyone, expected to find and a decisive gesture is made for the Archivist.
Cast of Characters: Jonathan Sims, Chas Chandler




Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The trip downriver is not as straightforward as Jon might have hoped at first. He manages to stay on the first boat for a week, giving up six more dreams for the passage, but then they reach a divergence, where a smaller branch splits off from the main river. This is the first hint that Jon has that the Great River does not work the way watersheds in the material world work--usually this sort of juncture would involve another river flowing /into/ the larger. But the boat he's on is heading down the smaller fork, and the Captain suggests very strongly that where they're headed is "not for you, Archivist."

    So Jon gets off at the dock by the fork, and starts the first of many stretches where he walks down river. Sometimes he finds villages or towns or even whole cities in which to stay the night; sometimes he has to camp near the banks. He barters for supplies in the settlements, gaining a brightly-colored tent and a cot on which to put his bedroll, a portable camping stove, a comfortable chair to sit in next to his fire. All of these things fold up incredibly small, being made of magic, and he's sure none of it will last once he leaves the Astral. Still, it makes the camping easier when he's out in the wilds.

    Sometimes, he manages to catch a ride on another boat downriver. The payment is often sometimes like a dream or a story--he tells plenty of stories on his journey. One time he discovers that there is actual currency in the land through which he's passing, and the boat captains very much expect payment in this particular magical gem. It seems a little silly, given that he goes to a broker in the village by the dock and sells a story from the Archive for enough of the gems to get him passage downriver. It'd be easier to give them the story directly--but, then, he doesn't know what any of these beings /do/ with the stories and dreams and such. Maybe the beings around here just can't use them directly.

    He meets a fascinating array of creatures. Faeries and ogres, satyrs and minotaurs, even demons and devils--for it turns out that aside from the Fallen most of the demons in Hell are actually creatures of the Astral, attracted there by Lucifer's Fall. There are dragons and tanuki and djinn, devas and orishas, alien creatures for which Jon has no name. The landscapes through which the river passes are as varied as the residents, in some places lush and green, in some barren wasteland, some completely alien and nearly impossible to describe.

    The first time the river goes up into the sky takes Jon by surprise. He's on a little fishing boat, having bartered passage in exchange for helping man the nets for the day, and suddenly they're going /up/ into the air, as if passing over a waterfall in reverse. When Jon yelps in surprise, the fisherman--a short, stout creature with white hair and an easy manner--laughs and says, "You never sailed through the stars, boy? I thought everyone knew about that!"

    And to Jon's wonder, they /do/, indeed, sail through the stars, on a river suddenly made of nebulous light, in the sky above the forests of the Astral plane below. They catch starfish that glimmer softly with the light of distant suns, and nebula crab that are so ephemeral they can only be caught by special nets. At the end of the day, the fisherman treats Jon to a fry-up of some of the best of the catch, resting on an asteroid next to the river, and Jon discovers that he is /not/ allergic to the nebula crab, unlike its real-world counterpart. He's sent on his way with a bag of starfish and crab to eat or barter, and camps on another asteroid--nervously hooking everything down lest it all float off while he sleeps.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    He finds a shining city build on the inside of a cylindrical space station the next day, positioned at the top of the waterfall where the Great River falls down to the "surface" once more, and the place is so fascinating he stops there for a week, wandering about gaping at everything like a tourist. It's all incredibly futuristic, populated by spirits of space-faring species and the spirits that are adapting to humanity's growing body of science fiction. He makes a mental note of where it is, determined to bring his friends back.

    Most boats don't sail the Astral sky, though, so many times when the Great River hops up into the sky Jon just winds up traveling along beneath it, following the far end to find the place where it falls back down again. Sometimes there's a road, sometimes there's even vehicles to travel on, sometimes there's nothing but wilderness. He presses on, with the growing certainty that there's a /reason/ he's having to walk downriver instead of being able to open a portal back home.

    He marks the time in his journals--he's filled multiple journals by now, having recorded his exploits in Hell and now recording his trip through the Astral. Two years, he's spent traveling downriver. Two years, and he's no closer to know when he'll get /home/.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    While many of the sights on Jon's journey are novel and full of wonder for the Archivist, one thing has been rather consistent. The regular appearance of the Faerie princess, Lily. She's met him at various waypoints and stations along his trek, even spending a few days with him on the space station before making her own way once more.

    One thing might occur to Jon, the Faerie princess for all her side treks seems to be making her way the same direction as the Archivist. It could be coincidence but with her kind, there are rarely accidents even happy ones.

    They are together once more on a road that winds through what looks like farmland. The Great River hear travels overhead in a nebulous starry cloud, like an arm of the Milky Way. Plot after plot of what might be corn from the tall stalks and bulbous growths line the road, but something about it is wrong. There's no color to the vegatation. It's silvery grey, with a irridescent film that coats the leaves of the plants. The siphoning of color growns more and more pronouned as they near the village and Lily's expression grows worried. "Something is not right here, Archivist" she says, stating the obvious. "You can feel it in the air..." she says, lifting a hand to test it and drawing the same hand to her chest protectively.

    The villiagers are a strange bunch themselves. Youthful creatures with palid grey skin and hollow eyes. They're friendly enough, but silent in their dealings. The village, contrary to Lily's earlier insistence, is not the vibrant land of Dreamfarmers. Something else has taken over the village, but what that something is isn't readily apparent.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon has begun to have suspicions about Lily by now, but he doesn't voice them, unformed as they are. He's fairly certain that whatever task she's been sent on has to do, in part, with him--keeping an eye on him? Guiding him? It's hard to say. But it seems that every time he starts looking around for that blue butterfly, there she is with her silver and gold wings, greeting him brightly. It frustrates him, a little, that within the past two years he's spent more time with this faerie princess than his own daughter, but that will soon be mended. He hopes.

    She doesn't age--but, then, neither does he. It might just be the way of things, in this land.

    As they approach the oddly colorless village, Jon actually stops at one point to more closely examine the plants. They even reach out to touch a "cornstalk," blinking in surprise as the leaf crumbles to dust under their touch. The strange film sticks to their fingers, stinging a bit, and they summon up some of their water to wash it off.

    "Odd," they murmur, frowning around. "Let's talk to the locals? I don't know about... /eating/ anything here."

    When the two of them reach the village, Jon tries to induce--well, maybe not conversation, but communication at the least. "I am the Archivist, and my companion is called Lily. Do you have accomodations for the night?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The pair of pale, hollow eyed individuals that greet them look between each other and then words form in Jon's mind. It's a strong, but feminine voice. <<This place is unsafe, Archivist, you would do better to go elsewhere for the night>> the first says. The second chimes in, their voice more masculine. <<But the closest village is several days journey away by foot.>> They exchange a worried glance between each other again.

    <<We can perhaps shelter you for the night but...>> the first says. <<You must leave this place early in the morning, otherwise...>> They stop as the second grabs the first's arm tightly and shakes their head emphatically. <<You should just be sure you're gone.>>

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon exchanges a glance with Lily. The beings can surely tell--being telepaths--that all their warning has done is pique the Archivist's natural curiosity and desire to help. There's a mystery to be solved, maybe a village to save--he almost /has/ to stay the night, now, and try to work out what's going on.

    A tip for interactions with heroes: if you want them to pass on quietly, act like everything is /boring/. They're less likely to stay.

    So they smile brightly, and say, "Well, I'm certain we appreciate the hospitality. Don't worry, we won't require much space. We've even got our own food if you haven't much to spare; I noticed there seems to be a blight on your crops." It's said casually, but it's difficult to hide the way he's trying to ask a leading question here. It really is hard to casually question an empath.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The leding creature stiffens at the mention of the blight and glances to one side. There is an old drawing well there. It looks old, ancient even, and worn. It's also clearly been segregated from the community. Any of the villagers walking the street are sure to give it a wide berth. The masculine of the pair draws attention away before much can be glenaed from it. <<Certainly Archivist and... your Grace...>> they ask hesitantly, looking at Lily.

    Lily shakes her head. "Lily is fine, thank you..." she replies casually. She looks to Jon to see if he caught the object of their scrutiny. Before gesturing to the pair. "Please, lead the way" she says, letting the pair usher them on.

    They are taken to a large inn-like building and given a table near the back corner near a window. If it weren't for the blight the view of the fields of corn might be idyllic, but now it's dreary and unappetizing. Once seated, another of the pale figures brings a small basket with some rolls in it. They're not very large, but they don't appear blighted or infected with whatever else is affecting the town.

    <<Some of the last stores of whatever food they can give to travellers who eat>> the server says. <<I do hope it is enough. I apologize that there isn't more. But with...>> They're cut off by a hissing noise coming from the original pair. <<I... let me know if there is anything else I can do for you,>> they say before rushing off to tend to some other task out of sight.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Your Grace, hmm?" Jon quirks a brow at Lily. "Something I should know?" He's teasing, really; he keeps trying to get Lily to tell him more about herself, her position, her 'master,' and by now expects her to shoot him down at every turn.

    Jon settles himself at the table with a frown, looking around. He eyes the rolls for a moment, but nods to the server. "Thank you." It's genuine--he appreciates them giving some of the last of their pre-blighted food to the travelers.

    Once they're alone, Jon whispers to Lily, "Think you can keep that group busy without letting them know what you're up to? I /think/ if I focus hard enough I can veil my mind as well as my body and sneak over to get a look at that well. If I don't do it now, we'll have to wait for darkness and who knows what might be down there."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Lily blushes and waves a hand. "A technicallity. My master is considered nobility among the denizens of this land and due to my association I am given the same honorifics if... lower in status." She shakes her head. "It's not accurate, but it is too difficult to correct them every time. I lost interest after the third or fourth century of trying."

    She listens intently as Jon plots an investigative mission and frowns. "I... can do that, yes. I just... you will be on your own. Are you certain you will be safe should you encounter something there?" she asks, tentatively picking at the top of one of the rolls and setting pieces of it into her mouth. "I would feel rather responsible if you were harmed because I could not help you."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "If I need help, I'll yell," Jon says with a smirk. "Telepathically, if need be. Keep an ear out. I can handle myself against many things, but this whole place feels... wrong." The smirk fades to a brief frown, and then he shakes himself, picking up a roll and eating it so that he doesn't draw attention.

    He waits while Lily strikes up a conversation with the short beings that inhabit this place, carefully drawing up a sense of "boring" around him, of "do not notice." It would be a harder thing to do out in reality, against mortal wills, but even though these beings are empaths they are also creatures of the Astral--and Jon is becoming rather an expert at manipulating the stuff of the Astral plane. When he's certain they're so engaged with Lily they won't notice him disappearing from sight, he folds invisibility around himself, wraps himself in silence, and gets up from the table to head out the door.

    He avoids the residents of the village as he sneaks toward the well--a task made easier by their own avoidance of said well. Once there, he carefully opens his Third Eye and Looks at the place, including just walking up to the rim and peering down inside.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    As Jon approaches the well, he crosses some unseen barrier and the world just feels -wrong-. Tainted. Sick. The oily residue in the air is not unfamiliar to the Archivist. The taint of Old Gods. Opening the third eye might've been a mistake, but Jon does it anyway and is blinded by a kaliedescope of color that pours from the well.

    No, not from the well. -Into- the well.

    Whatever is causing the blight is siphoning the magic of the land into the well itself, and leeching it from the land around. Peering down into the depths reveals just more of that blinding flow of color. It's too blinding and shimmering to make anything definite out from it but there is a feel of something dark and -wrong- down in the depths of the well itself. Something that aches with a hunger that dwarfs even the feeling of those lost souls on in the Third Circle of Hell.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    For a moment, Jon just... reels. The Ceaseless Watcher was so well-fed in Hell that it hasn't bothered him /much/ out here in the Astral Plane, and he's managed to get enough statements through barter--trading a story for something /is/ pretty common around here, after all. But suddenly it's /hungry/, ravenous, as if awakened from slumber. It devours the fear of the villagers and Jon's own fear and the kaleidoscoping colors in the Well...

    "Stop that," Jon mutters, and tries to force his Third Eye shut.

    He fails. The nausea threatens to overwhelm him, driving him to his knees. He puts his head in his hands, fighting just to keep control at all. The Watcher wants, very badly, to get up and go pull the fear of this well out of each and every one of these beings, to pin poor Lily down and drain her of her energy until she's a husk, and then to take over whatever's being done here, to make sure the poison from the well spreads up to the river in the sky...

    The /river/.

    It's an effort, but they look up toward the sky, where a dim milky glow across the sky is the evidence of the Great River's passage overhead. With their Third Eye open, they can see the tendrils reaching up from the well toward the river above, slowly intertwining with stars and nebulae. Trying to taint the river. The river that feeds the Astral plane. The river that feeds mortal imagination and dreams.

    "LILY!!" The Archivist screams the word at the top of his lungs, and bellows it telepathically too, before falling over wracked with nausea and pain. "/LILY!!/"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Lily is there is a flash. She speaks a name and there is a crystaline sound, like a small glass shattering before a blast of blue-white energy fires -down- into the well itself. The blast creates a similarly colored shockwave that flings Jon back from the edge and presses on some sort of barrier bubbling over the rim of the well itself, but it doesn't break through.

    Standing behind Lily is a tall figure with purple skin and three arms. In those arms are a chalice, a trident, and a ring. The figure is covered with serpents as adornment and wears a white skirt around its waist. Jon gets a momentary flash of a name: Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction and rebirth. It fades from view shortly after the blast settles and Lily moves to help Jon to his feet. "The adversary of all things..." she says with heavy concern. "We must fight it in order to protect The River." She glances at her companion. "Do you require healing?" she asks, "or are you fit to combat this threat."

    Meanwhile, villagers are already fleeing to the safety of the interior of the village, huddling together in silent masses and watching the conflict with worried, fearful expressions.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon is thrown away from the well and lies on the ground for a moment, stunned, staring up at the tendrils of dark energy reaching toward the river, gasping. He struggles to catch his breath, and claps a hand to his forehead. "I... I don't... I can't..." Panic starts to rise up in him. He's taken on too much. He shouldn't have taken on the Watcher. What a /fool/ he was. What an /idiot/. He can see, now, all too clearly, that he never needed this bloody Old One to begin with. He had enough power to defy them both all along.

    And now... now he's stuck. Now he's attached to this thing until they can seal the lot of them off, and it's trying to use him. Even now he struggles with the desire to claim the power in the well and turn on Lily and her image of Shiva...

    "No," he gasps out. "/No/. I won't... stop... /stop/!!"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Lily shakes her head. "You have to gain control of it Archivist, otherwise your battle is already lost" she says. Her words seems to fall on deaf ears and she grumbles in irritation. A blue flame appears around her hand and she makes a fist. Again, that sound of small glass breaking comes from around her and another towering figure of Hindu myth appears behind her.

    Mada is ringed by a girdle of fire, ready to consume the earth. She gestures and a droplet of green energy falls on Jon, when it touches him it explodes in a cascade of smaller greenish sparkles and some of the pressure clears from his mind. "What I have given you is only temporary, but you have to wrest control from it and use it as I use those who I use. Feel the connection between you and the Ceaseless Watcher, face that fear and defy the control it exerting over your soul. It -is- a part of you, not the other way around."

    She turns, her turquoise eyes blazing on the kaledescopic colors that pour from the well. "Blazing Hell," she commands with a gesture to the well. That same flash and crush of glass comes from her. Mada behind her brings its four arms down into the girdle of flame and pulls fire from the torches there before slinging them toward the well. The balls of flame coalesce into one form and strike the well, engulfing it in flame that presses on the barrier. Unfortunately it still holds and a beam of multihued light sweeps over the field before them. It stikes across Lily and she lets out a cry of discomfort and jerks back, her butterfly wings fluttering.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I don't--I /had/ control!" Jon shouts. "But this bloody thing... gods, Cael was right, I never should have..."

    What Lily's saying finally seems to get through. The Watcher is a part of him. He remembers how it felt, the first time he wrested control of the thing. How he'd accepted his darker impulses, the parts of himself he was ashamed of--the Shadow, in Jungian terms. He'd been working through that in Hell, recognizing what's actually a problem and what isn't. Accepting his anger, his appetites, the fact that he /does/ enjoy a good fight.

    He's accepted, once and for all, that he /is/ the Archivist. That he needs statements. That he judges souls. He's learned to trust himself, and his decisions.

    He closes his eyes, and looks at the Watcher, internally. It's a piece of an Old One, yes, but there is darkness and entropy in all things. He /enjoys/ the statements. He enjoys ferreting out secrets, unraveling mysteries. He's curious to a fault. Even here, he's rushed into the mystery rather than leaving well enough alone, snuck out to get a look at the well sooner rather than waiting for cover of darkness when Lily could have come with him.

    And yet, if he hadn't done this, what might have happened to the Great River? To the minds of mortals? What /still/ might happen, if he doesn't get home to the Justice League Dark and get their help fixing this problem? Once the Old Ones aren't attacking them directly anymore, that is.

    His curiosity is a /boon/, is the point. His penchant for delving into a mystery to the exclusion of all else just needs a /focus/. His darkest pieces, his weaknesses, can be turned into strengths, if only he grasps them and accepts them. More to the point--he can take this piece of the Old One and /cleanse/ it. Bring it out of the shadows--or the Shadow--and /use/ the power. Take the Ceaseless Watcher and claim it as his own, wrest it from the Old Gods.

    The glowing green eye manifests before him. "I am you," he says to it. "And... you are me, in a way. The parts of myself I didn't want to admit were there. But I don't need to be fueled by some eldritch thing, and neither do you." A pause. "Ceaseless Watcher--you are /mine/."

    The third eye on his forehead closes, and the green eye manifests behind him as he manages to sit up, staring at the well.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    There is the echo of a bellow as Jon wrests the control of The Ceaseless Watcher from its source and contains it as a part of him. Lily looks over and nods. "Good. Now that is is part of you, you should have at least a passing idea of what's capable of. Take that..." she says, "and use it. Like so."

    She reaches up and brings her hand down again surrounding it in light blue fire. "Ardha!" she calls and the dual gendered perfect god of Shaktism materializes behind her; half Parvati, half Shiva it waits for her command. "God's Hand," she says with a gesture to the fluctuating barrier over the well.

    The perfect god lifts a hand and a great golden fist appears from the sky to come crashing down upon the barrier. It shudders and then shatters, releasing a pulsing, phasic sound from within the well.

    A creature comes up from within the well. It's not meant to exist. It looks like nothing more than a strange cross between stinging insect and crustacean. Crab pincers protrude from an wasp's body. The head, a bulbous mass of flesh with writhing tendrils that flail about in all directions. Multi-faceted wings sprout from it's back and hum as they keep it aloft, creating that phasic noise. In one hand it holds a small rock, that is the source of the light, it pulses and flickers as it continues to absorb the ambient magic around the area and continues to reach up toward the River; hoping desperately to taint the water and sow chaos and entropic decay across the minds of the planet.

    Another sweep of the multi-hued light splashes over Lily and she is knocked back with a cry of true pain. She drops to a knee. "It's vulnerable... you can beat it" she says with a wince before dropping completely and falling unconscious.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "That's--that's a /mi-go/. Oh, /fuck/," Jon breathes. He doesn't have to panic. They dealt with Asag, which was actually something /much/ worse. He can handle this thing.

    The whole business of pulling up images of different gods and mystical beings, and calling out spells, well--that's not Jon's thing. He summons constructs from the Astral plane--but, then, they're /in/ the Astral Plane. And he's already used the Ceaseless Watcher before.

    "Ceaseless Watcher," he calls out, "hold it in place! Block it from the river!" The great Eye behind him swivels, and fixes the mi-go with its gaze, holding it in place and starting to cut off the energy flowing up toward the river high above.

    Jon takes a deep breath and pulls the power of Ma'at around himself, summoning up wings and circlet with the feather upon his brow. The green glow in his eyes is replaced by teal, as he reaches for not only Ma'at's power, but the power of his ultimate patron, Neith--who is Gaea, the Earth Mother.

    "Creature of the Darkness, you do not belong here! Begone from this realm!" A blast of teal light shoots out from Jon's outstretched hand, taking the mi-go right in the... chest? The midsection, anyway.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The mi-go lets out a piercing cry that is part audible shriek and part subaudible wail as the power of the Watcher bears down on it. It struggles to do anything more but writhe under the gaze, but it cannot move and thus is utterly defenseless as the godly blast from Neith strikes it full on center mass. The blast goes -through- it leaving a gaping crater in the middle of it's insectoid body. Before the entirety of the body turns to ash and flakes away on a gust of wind.

    The stone falls from it's pincer and cracks on the ground, releasing the ambient magic within that boils out of it in a wave.

    Slowly the grey dullness of the village and its crops return to their original vibrant hues. Even the people change, from the palid, hollow eyed creatures to ethereal beings in the shape of anthropomorphic animals.

    Lily is still lying on the ground nearby, she groans and tries to push herself up but fails dropping back to the ground. "You did it..." she moans. "I knew, you had it in you. Our Archivist" she mutters before her breathing steadies and she falls unconscious.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon gasps for breath as the power leaves him, the Eye behind him disappearing, the circlet fading. The wings stay, and he uses them to buffet himself, to stay upright. He peers around at Lily, at her statement. 'Our' Archivist? Hmm.

    Then he sighs and goes to pick her up, cradling her gently. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I should've figured it out sooner." He hefts her easily enough and turns to look over the villagers.

    "Can I get somewhere for her to rest? That was... /very/ difficult on her. She'll be alright, I think, she just needs some sleep." She /had/ said they treated her as an important personage and all.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    A pair of people who look like humanoid owls move forward. <<We must thank you both for what you have done for our village>> the first one says, and from the voice it was the female who greeted them at the entrance. <<Is there anything beyond giving her a place to rest that we can do... for either of you?>>

    A number of large creatures who looked like humanoid cats (and might remind Jon of Terry to a degree) move to the cracked stone carrying achaic style weapons. They prod the rock tentatively and upon seeing its inert state, one picks it up and throws it. It sails into the distance before disappearing. Seeming molified they return to their posts of watching the entry and exit points of the village.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Perhaps," Jon says as he follows the owls, still carrying Lily. "you can tell me how that got here. The rock, I mean. It's... quite dangerous, and I'm going to need to know where it came from, how long it's been here, how fast it spread. Whatever you might know." A pause. "I know it might be frightening or difficult to talk about--but I need to know, so I can stop it from happening anywhere else."

    He smiles. "Other than that... a place to rest for a few days while she recovers will be fine. I expect she has business elsewhere--best we help her recover fast, hmm?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The pair of owls nod and usher Jon towards the building they were in before. <<Of course. Anything you need to know we can tell you and you both are free to stay here. It's not much... and for Her Grace it might be a bit bland but there is nowhere more comfortable in the town.>>

    Once Lily is settled the owls give Jon the information requested about the rock and its bearer and the blight it spread. It wasn't much but it might lead to some powerful developments in the future. One step at a time, for the JLD.