entrancelogs | The ego is only an illusion, but a very influential one.

[It's not the heat that bothers him, but the humidity is another matter. In the desert you don't get much in the way of 'cloying' as far as warmth goes, and it's the various distractions this produces that dampen instincts which would have otherwise warned him of his Shadow's approach.]

God, jus' look at you.

[His voice, but not his, and it doesn't take a second glance for him to know this is not his Mirror. This is Something Else, and that Something Else is watching him with eerie yellow eyes and both hands shoved in its pockets. Entirely non-threatening, yet it sends the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

The Shadow smiles at him - a thin, humourless smile, and shrugs.]

I know what yer about t' say. 'I'm not afraid of you.' Who d' y' think yer kiddin', Danyael?

[Dan's jaw tenses, but he says nothing.]

Y' don't really believe that if y' don't think about it, none of it happened. The torture, the abductions, and... [It smiles that odd smile again, tapping its temple where a scar matching Dan's twists across the skin.] Acting like yer jus' some regular guy? Like it didn't fuck you up?

Shut up.

[The courier clenches his hands into tight fists to keep his fingers from shaking. What the hell is this place trying to do to him now? His mental fortitude had already been worn down from the events of the previous month.

It laughs, and despite the heat he feels a chill run through him.]

No, no, that ain't how this works. Or are y' gonna try t' run away from this, too?

Edited 2017-11-19 22:40 (UTC)

[ Cullen leans against the wall, and catches his breath. This is hardly worse than a Kirkwall summer in full templar armor, but he has lived in the Frostback Mountains for too long now. A lock of hair slips into his face. He grimaces, and wipes it away, back with the mop of damp curls where it belongs. This should not be the most frustrating part of this event, and yet...

He hears voices nearby, finally. The creatures which prowl the bathhouse are a handful to fight, and he could use reinforcements. Cullen speeds up towards the sound, in case its source has been faring worse in the fights than he did. As soon as the rounds the corner he spots two--

And one is not an ally by far.

Cullen stays back, his sword drawn. This is the first of these creatures he faces, but he has heard the transmission. Heard the best course of action against them, which runs counter to his instincts. Regardless, a frontal attack will hardly be the best choice.

He recognises the man - Dan - now, too, and stands back to wait for his next move. ]

[All in all, Dan isn't entirely sure how he's supposed to face this. He saw the message from the young man claiming this as one from his own mind, but the exact mechanics of it - while they had seemed simple - were not so easy to put into practice.

Dan can't quite rationalise the thing in front of him with his own image of himself, and the thing that it says don't help in that effort. It's as if it's trying to provoke him.]

You won't stay. It was stupid to stay as long as you have, and you'll just hurt them all when you leave. Especially--

Don't. [The courier half-growls a low warning, but it goes unheeded.]

--Arcade. But-- oh, you have Evelyn, now, don't you? And you don't deserve her attention any more than you deserved his.

[He hadn't seen Cullen, but a small movement in the steam catches his attention and he glances away from the Shadow for half a second, meeting Cullen's eyes for the briefest moment.

Oh, fucking hell.]

[ The creature's words mean far more to Dan than they do to him, that much is clear. Cullen looks between them, a flash of concern when Dan turns his attention away. But his copy does not seem eager to attack. Not just yet, at least. ]

Will you need help with this?

[A sharp breath is pulled in through his teeth when Cullen speaks and he can no longer ignore the man's presence to give him an opportunity to simply walk away.

He doesn't answer one way or another, but laughs instead. It's a short, hard sound utterly devoid of humour.]

They attack us if we don't accept 'em, right? That's what the kid said.

[The Shadow says nothing to that, only gives an unsettling smile.]

... Fuck, as if we ain't had enough a' this kind a' shit already.

[ Cullen keeps his eyes trained on the Shadow. That transmission... has been on his mind for a while. ]

I heard, but did they say how? And do we have proof that this will work?

Trying to talk yer way out of it, like always. Sometimes y' jus' gotta shoot a fucker in the head.

[Dan rubs his temple vigorously with two fingertips. It's bad enough having to deal with this kind of thing on his own, but infinitely worse when there's an audience.

Yet, he doesn't want Cullen to leave when he could be a valuable ally when things go south.]

Ain't heard no one sayin' it does, yet. [He replies, not taking his eyes off the Shadow.] But ain't heard no one sayin' it doesn't, either. Y' got my back if this goes wrong?

[ He stops listening to the Shadow as it goes on, as best as he can. If these creatures know their minds, then another man's is not for him to hear. As for the solution to this opponent, Cullen had no time to monitor the network for results. A fact he regrets now.

Cullen raises his sword, and nods readily all the same. ]

[Deep breath.

Right now, he would rather be anywhere else but here.]

Okay, let's fuckin' get this over with.

[The Shadow opens its mouth as if to speak but Dan stops it with one raised hand, brought up in a sharp gesture. There's nothing on his face that suggests the usual genial attitude he sports.]

First thing, yeah, I like t' talk my way outta problems b'fore I go fer a gun. Nothin' wrong wi' that. Second thing, no, I don't fuckin' deserve that woman, but she loves me anyway. Third thing, yeah, eventually 'm gonna leave the Strip an' 'll probably leave a lotta hurt behind me when I do. I gotta make my peace wi' that.

[Those are the easy ones. He spares a quick look to the commander, and almost looks apologetic. His next words stick in his throat.]

An'... the rest of it.

The rest? [The Shadow bristles up slightly, and Dan takes a small step back with a barely concealed grimace.]

Say it.

[ This is not his place. Cullen shifts uneasily. The apprehension of watching a mage's Harrowing, salted with restlessness as he witnesses a battle of wills he has no part in. None, save for awaiting- what, even? For Dan to embrace the creature's words, or to deny them? Are they meant to defeat, or to appease? And would it be truly such a bad idea if he just slashed at the monster's neck with a swift blow, because--

--Cullen nods to Dan, a mere reminder that he is still here, still ready. For what he wishes he could say with more certainty.

He glances at the Shadow then, seeing it satisfied with the words so far, as best as he can tell. Is that good or bad?

(Cullen catches a word here and there, no matter how hard he tries not to. The rest, they both say, and he braces himself for whatever comes next.) ]

[There's hesitation, but he gives the man a small nod in response. If he's honest, it's a small comfort to have someone keeping their eye on the situation, even if it's someone that he doesn't know terribly well.]

Say it! [The Shadow insists. Its eyes flash strangely as the steam around it shifts. Dan's fists clench up, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms.]

Fine! Shit! Fine, my head's a fuckin' wreck an' I won't tell anyone about it 'cause I can't-- I don't want people thinkin' less a' me. Because I can't... be that person. Not fer anyone. There. That what y' wanna here? Y' fuckin' humiliated me enough?!

[His voice only gets louder, reaching a volume seldom heard from the calmly-spoken courier. There's a small crack on the final word, yet--

The Shadow steps towards him and offers one hand out passively. Dan gives Cullen a warning look - be ready - but the battle he expects doesn't come. The moment their hands make contact, the Shadow dissolves and vanishes, and Dan sways backwards on the spot, pulling in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.]

What... the... shit. Fuck.

[ Cullen tenses. Not at the words, not at the hand extended, but at this. The creature vanished, but to where? His eyes narrow. Sword poised to strike he approaches Dan. These are not creatures of his world, this is not a man he knows well, but he looks him up and down with as much scrutiny as he can muster. ]

Are you- all right?

[ Still yourself? ]

... Yeah. Yeah, I think so.

[He has that question, himself, but he doesn't... feel any different. His fingers flex loosely before he drops his hand down to his side, only to bring it up moments later to wipe the sweat from his face.]

Sorry y'... had t' see all that.

[There's no room for pretense, here. He feels like the human equivalent of a viciously deflated balloon.]

[ The eyes tell it best. His- look tired. Human. If he is anything but himself, then Cullen sees no indication of it. He dares a small breath of relief, and slowly sheathes his sword. ]

No need for that. You stood against it. That cannot have been easy.

[ He remembers the transmission again. Everything it said these creatures were. Not easy in the slightest. ]

Like y've no fuckin' idea. [One thumb drags up his temple, pressing hard against a purple, knotted scar standing clear against the skin.]

Didn't think it'd be that easy.

[Accept it, right? Tell them that what they're saying is true. Maybe having a witness to it helped.]

'preciate it if y' didn't... y'no.

If it isn't daddy's boy.

[Nathaniel's immediate response to the voice at the far end of the hall is to point an arrow at it. It does very little good, as his own skills are used against him and the thing all but evaporates into the fog to appear far too close at his back.]

The apple doesn't drop too far from the tree, you know. No one is ever going to look at the Howe family in the same way again.

Maker-- [Nathaniel hisses out, whirling around to... nothing. He growls in frustration, scrubbing a hand across his forehead as if clearing the sweat beading there might help.

His own low voice speaks at him from somewhere in the steam.]

You already have her trust, just like her father trusted yours.

[The rogue shakes his head, flinching as his back hits a wall. He curses under his breath.]

Leave her out of this.

Why? You don't want to.

[It appears, then, arms loosely folded and a gleeful smirk on its face that looks at odds enough from Nathaniel's usual expression as to be entirely eerie.]

He was respected, he was powerful, would it really be so bad to be like him? Just a little?

Edited 2017-11-19 23:49 (UTC)

[When Regis comes across his supposed 'true self', he isn't surprised by how it chooses to look, if it was even a choice. Its voice comes out in a low growl, and Regis has little reaction to it at first. It isn't the first time he's come up against something like this in Wonderland and he has his doubts that it will be the last.]

Out of sight, out of mind, isn't that what you said?

[Regis sighs, rubbing two fingers against his temple.]

If you're referring to what I assume you are, then yes, I believe that I did.

[The Shadow hesitates, but barely misses a beat before it goes on.] Self-imposed isolation is one thing, but eventually, you're going to bring their wrath down on everyone you care about.

[Here, the vampire flinches. He lowers his hand slowly, appearing to finally give the Shadow his full attention. Buoyed by this, it grins viciously - an expression with far too many teeth.]

You won't stay in Nilfgaard for long. You can't. You'll go north again and put all of them in danger. Because no matter what, you're never going to escape this. [It pauses, to gesture at itself.] You, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, will always be nothing more than a monster to them. A blood-drinking freak.

[Regis is silent, knowing he is more than that to his friends but also... knowing that there is truth in the words being thrown at him like barbs. The Shadow bristles under his reticence.]

You'll be the death of them all. You'll kill them, just like you killed Dett--.

Enough. [Regis hisses, distress manifesting in anger as his claws lengthen without his knowledge.] No more of this.

Edited 2017-11-20 00:08 (UTC)

[ Nora rounds the corner slowly as she hears arguing, then comes to a stop as she sees Regis facing off against his other self. She wasn't sure that her usual strategy, to shoot her way through her problems, would be much help here, but she raises her gun at his shadow's head nonetheless. ]

Is there a problem here, gentlemen?

[Immediately, like a reflex born of surprise, Regis' claws retract and he quickly clasps his hands together. She knows what he is, and what he could become is standing in front of the both of them with no need for him to demonstrate it, but the last thing he wants to do is provoke a situation that will lead to bringing harm to her.]

Lower the weapon, Nora, if you would.

[Perhaps she hadn't seen the message?]

It will do no good here.

[ Nora lowers the gun a little, but still keeps hold of it. She knew they wouldn't do vampires much good, but she still felt better having it than not. ]

I don't think either of us will do much good here. How about we leave this jerk and head back to the safe area?

I would not be so quick to dismiss this creature.

[There's a warning in his voice; a hand brought up as if to bid her to settle down. The creature - the Shadow - isn't speaking now, but observing them as if calculating their next move.]

Turning my back on it would be tantamount to rejecting it, and that would result in an outcome that neither of us would want.

[ She raises an eyebrow, it's not often that she's genuinely surprised but he's managed it. ]

I can see why long, tall and ugly over here wouldn't want to be rejected, but I'm surprised you agree with him.

It is always wise, in events such as these, to listen to those who have claimed them as from their own world. They often have good advice on how to tackle the situation.

[If he hadn't listened to Kanji, then who knows? This thing could have attacked them already, and they might both be dead.]

And in this case, turning my back is not an option.

[ Nora was determined not to listen to her own shadow if she encountered it, thinking that anything this place had manufactured was only bound to hurt her.

She looks from Regis to the shadow and back. ]

In that case, it seems to me like we're heading for a good old fashioned Mexican stand off.

Hardly.

[He won't ignore it, because that would be foolish. He won't stay silent... because that would amount to the same. The Shadow waits, as if anticipating that Regis' reaction to it will be to do anything but run.

But, Regis supposes, if this thing is truly the worst and most denied parts of himself, it already knows that running away is something he does not often do willingly.]

You should let me deal with this. It has no business with you.

[ Nora actually looks a little hurt, but she finally holsters her gun, shrugging her shoulders. ]

Okay, fine. But I'm on standby in case the worst happens.

[Better hurt feelings than dead, Regis would say. She's here now and is apparently not the type of person to walk away (not what he expected, in fact) and he would not want to see her harmed by some figment drawn from his own mind.]

Very well.

[Since he doubts he's going to be able to change her mind, and the thing in front of them is already getting restless. He looks at it, quite calm now, though his reaction before proves well enough that he's putting up a very good front.]

If Dettlaff's fate is to be wielded as a weapon against me, it will be done on my own terms. [Briefly, he glances to Nora.] And I do hope that anything you hear here will not tarnish what good opinion you might have of me.

Don't worry about that. I don't think anyone can be held accountable for how they act in these sort of events.

[ She stands well back, but she isn't about to abandon him to his inner demons made flesh. ]

... Oh, fuck this. [Are the first words out of Crowley's mouth the moment he begins to feel the sneaky sensation of his hair standing on end and the feathers on his incorporeal wings bristling up right along with it.]

Oh, that kind of language isn't really necessary, is it?

[Oh, what now..?

He's expecting some kind of monster. Something he's going to have to battle with the best poker face he can muster and a whole lot of swearing besides, but the figure that steps out of the steam to speak to him is... not any of that.

Crowley's Shadow is... calm. Quiet, timid, even as it approaches him and stops several feet away. It briefly wrings its hands and sighs, seeming to wilt under the wide-eyed stare that the demon gives it.]

What the damn hell are you supposed to be?

You don't need to be like that with me. It's alright.

[Crowley's nose wrinkles.] ... Excuse me?

You don't have to act like a... like a demon. Not like one of them, anyway.

[For others, this might actually look like a pleasant interaction from the outside, but Crowley's entire posture is stiff, one wrong step away from turning tail.]

Don't be ridiculous.

No, really! [The Shadow insists, entreating with one slightly raised hand.] Would it be so bad if people knew you're a decent person? Would that really be so... terrible?

((ooc: without help, crowley is probably not going to accept his shadow and it's going to turn on him! if you want to plot something like that out hmu, but otherwise feel free to help him come around to it or just talk to him in the safe zones~))

Edited 2017-11-20 00:28 (UTC)

[R doesn't sweat, or feel the heat at all, so the sauna conditions of the bath house don't cause him any discomfort. The steam... is problematic, particularly for someone who doesn't have the best ambulatory motion as it is, and he trails one hand along a wall as he moves along. It feels a lot like the Tartarus tower in its tension, and much like Tartarus had, he is hoping for some kind of safe area where he can just... stay out of the way.

What he gets is someone walking out of the steam in front of him, who...]

Oh.

[Who looks just like him, save for the... amount of blood on his clothes and around his mouth. R grimaces, halting mid-step and swaying back, ready for an attack that doesn't come. Instead, the thing - creepy yellow eyes and all - talks.

R grumpily wonders why every imaginary version of him can speak more fluently than he can.]

Surprised to see you still walking around. No one shot you yet? Not even a little bit?

... N-no. [R mutters. Pointing a gun at him doesn't count, right?]

They probably should. It's pretty stupid that they haven't. I mean, god, look at you.

[As if prompted, R does look down at himself. These days - cleaned up and in decent clothes - he doesn't think he looks too bad. The Shadow sighs impatiently.]

Not literally. You're always so slow. Maybe that's it. You're just making them feel sorry for you.

I'm--

I mean, better that than them thinking you're going to eat them. Are they all forgetting that that's what zombies do? It's only a matter of time.

[R closes his eyes. No, he's not going to hurt anyone. He won't.]

You can't keep ignoring what you are.

Edited 2017-11-20 01:01 (UTC)

The ego is only an illusion, but a very influential one.

Dan Palmer | OTA

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Nathaniel Howe | OTA

Regis | OTA

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Crowley | OTA

R | OTA