Aug 17 2025, 04:28 AM
With every cycle that passed since Audland had hatched, there had inevitably come a time near the end of each one that Audland privately referred to as, "The Goopening". The sore spots; the sudden feeling of having his limbs crushed or his chest sat on—as though someone had come up behind him to assault him with a blood pressure test by strapping it on without him noticing; the sudden bursting into flame and fury; the silence, the depravity, the whispers in the walls—it all started happening more, and more, with more intensity, fervor, more intention. Every cycle, his body would break down little by little by lot and lot, and so every cycle, Audland would make the trek. He didn't even know how he ended up here. His feet just knew where to carry him.
Every cycle, back at the foot of this... altar. Innately, he knew where it was. Obviously, with his inverse vision Audland could see it, and just about everyone could hear it. But it was more than that—a strange attraction. Audland felt it calling to him, like a sixth sense, like there was some specialized organ buried somewhere in his guts. There was another place he could detect, in Draco—but Audland didn't want to go to Draco, there were a bunch of freaks in Draco. Draco was loud and here, here was at least quiet, even if it was the nigh unbearably stale kind. It reminded Audland of most days in Ursa. Eerily alone.
Audland came in with an offering. The first time, he had not—simply stumbled in, stabilized, and left. The second time, much the same. But this time he came in dragging some poor Lesser rabbit, dangling by its foot, blood trailing out from a single knife wound tearing through the rabbit's jugular. Audland approached the altar, and placed the corpse atop. He knelt, bend down to touch the altar, and closed his eyes.
Or... maybe he closed his eyes? He could never be sure. He knew there was darkness where there shouldn't be. His limbs felt distantly present, and the room felt, if anything—cold. But that just happened sometimes. And sometimes, in the middle of the nothingness, something would simply appear, and Audland could never tell if that's because he made it out, or he opened his eyes, or he was just dreaming or what.
In the middle of his "vision" was a pair of green, glowing eyes. Pupil-less. Glinting. Somehow this factoid could not be less helpful for Audland figuring out which case he was in. He'd learned not to interact with some of the reality bending visions he had, but when they felt real enough, he figured he ought to indulge them just in case.
"Hello, if that's you." Still unsure if his eyes were open or closed, Audland took a shaky breath and continued: "Couldn't guess who you are. If yer anything at all. If you are there though, I'm leaving you a rabbit. It's like, a gift, I guess." Audland's proximity to the altar started seeping into him. At first it felt like sipping bile, then opening his mouth to swallow it. More, and more bile flooded in, washed through him, pitch black and rancid with a hint of neon lime. Audland had to stop himself from gagging. This was just the start. The burn wounds beneath his skin would fester, the light and void would mix together and creep up on him like swirling shadows, the pressure would pop, then thin out, then leave him drowning in air. At the crux of it all, for the tiniest sliver of a second, Audland could almost feel the world bending and breaking, pieces of himself warping, the whispering chants around the alter nearing legibility—and then, everything was normal again. The Goop retreats, back into his body that is presumably made of it. Audland dry heaves pretty hard a few times, a balled fist thumping his chest; he feels in need of a bath. But, besides that: normal.
Unlike the last two time, Audland doesn't leave yet. He stares blankly at the dead heap of rabbit on the altar—or at least, he thinks he does. When his mind and body feel ready to speak, Audland starts: "If- if you are there, if you have any sort of... authority I guess, could you tell me... what I'm s'posed to be doing, in the cave with snow? I know I'm s'posed to be there—I mean, look at me, nowhere else fits, but—I'm not sure... what I was put there to do. I don't know who made me. I'm not sure why I even think that's a thing I need to... well, you get the idea." 'I hope.'
Audland would wait for a while. Long enough to hopefully parse whether or not he was talkin' crazy to an audience of none. Maybe a response would never come, and Audland could take it to mean something. What exactly, he can't say for sure. But any answer is an answer, even if it's an unvoiced one.
~~~
(OOC: Audland brings the altar an offering, stabilizes, and then asks potentially no one about his purpose in the caves. Note: not trying to powerplay Rrevalk, Audland just experiences visions, delusions, and the Void due to Forsaken Mind and Energy of the Void.)
Every cycle, back at the foot of this... altar. Innately, he knew where it was. Obviously, with his inverse vision Audland could see it, and just about everyone could hear it. But it was more than that—a strange attraction. Audland felt it calling to him, like a sixth sense, like there was some specialized organ buried somewhere in his guts. There was another place he could detect, in Draco—but Audland didn't want to go to Draco, there were a bunch of freaks in Draco. Draco was loud and here, here was at least quiet, even if it was the nigh unbearably stale kind. It reminded Audland of most days in Ursa. Eerily alone.
Audland came in with an offering. The first time, he had not—simply stumbled in, stabilized, and left. The second time, much the same. But this time he came in dragging some poor Lesser rabbit, dangling by its foot, blood trailing out from a single knife wound tearing through the rabbit's jugular. Audland approached the altar, and placed the corpse atop. He knelt, bend down to touch the altar, and closed his eyes.
Or... maybe he closed his eyes? He could never be sure. He knew there was darkness where there shouldn't be. His limbs felt distantly present, and the room felt, if anything—cold. But that just happened sometimes. And sometimes, in the middle of the nothingness, something would simply appear, and Audland could never tell if that's because he made it out, or he opened his eyes, or he was just dreaming or what.
In the middle of his "vision" was a pair of green, glowing eyes. Pupil-less. Glinting. Somehow this factoid could not be less helpful for Audland figuring out which case he was in. He'd learned not to interact with some of the reality bending visions he had, but when they felt real enough, he figured he ought to indulge them just in case.
"Hello, if that's you." Still unsure if his eyes were open or closed, Audland took a shaky breath and continued: "Couldn't guess who you are. If yer anything at all. If you are there though, I'm leaving you a rabbit. It's like, a gift, I guess." Audland's proximity to the altar started seeping into him. At first it felt like sipping bile, then opening his mouth to swallow it. More, and more bile flooded in, washed through him, pitch black and rancid with a hint of neon lime. Audland had to stop himself from gagging. This was just the start. The burn wounds beneath his skin would fester, the light and void would mix together and creep up on him like swirling shadows, the pressure would pop, then thin out, then leave him drowning in air. At the crux of it all, for the tiniest sliver of a second, Audland could almost feel the world bending and breaking, pieces of himself warping, the whispering chants around the alter nearing legibility—and then, everything was normal again. The Goop retreats, back into his body that is presumably made of it. Audland dry heaves pretty hard a few times, a balled fist thumping his chest; he feels in need of a bath. But, besides that: normal.
Unlike the last two time, Audland doesn't leave yet. He stares blankly at the dead heap of rabbit on the altar—or at least, he thinks he does. When his mind and body feel ready to speak, Audland starts: "If- if you are there, if you have any sort of... authority I guess, could you tell me... what I'm s'posed to be doing, in the cave with snow? I know I'm s'posed to be there—I mean, look at me, nowhere else fits, but—I'm not sure... what I was put there to do. I don't know who made me. I'm not sure why I even think that's a thing I need to... well, you get the idea." 'I hope.'
Audland would wait for a while. Long enough to hopefully parse whether or not he was talkin' crazy to an audience of none. Maybe a response would never come, and Audland could take it to mean something. What exactly, he can't say for sure. But any answer is an answer, even if it's an unvoiced one.
~~~
(OOC: Audland brings the altar an offering, stabilizes, and then asks potentially no one about his purpose in the caves. Note: not trying to powerplay Rrevalk, Audland just experiences visions, delusions, and the Void due to Forsaken Mind and Energy of the Void.)