Dreamwaking: Chimera - Sacrifice.

[Lent]

Things happen. Cinnabar gets a look. Kaczmarek gets a look. Ariane gets a look. Bloodmoon gets a very long look. Made of stern stuff, it seemed. That he was still alive, alongside Calomel's steeling when it came to Aeryn, made it so the need for justice wasn't quite so immediate. The mapmaker who just picked up the falchion gets only a glance. Smug Karolinger isn't even worth that. His eyes turn back to Cinnabar. Yes, the Kaczmarek girl is dragging Aeryn but she's not getting very far very quickly with him.

"Way I see it..." and Lentham makes himself stop before instinctively calling Calomel 'son.' There was no reason to undermine him right now and every reason not to. "Losing you here and now isn't worth it just to wipe that asshole grin off the bastard's face." Unlike some of the others, Lentham didn't know how any of this worked. For a while, he had just thought himself mad. He was still unconvinced otherwise. If one died, then the other died too. That's what Karolinger believed at. What the note said. Who's to say it wouldn't be a real death. Now that the moment of the hunt had passed him, he was reluctant to have Cinnabar's death on his conscience as well. Last thing McCoy would have wanted, really.

Wasn't his decision, though. Was a matter of pride for Cinnabar as well as him, pride and values, and perhaps the law. He handed that belt over to Calomel, what weapons still were attached to it and all. Cinnabar would do what he would. Lentham? If this was real, then it was hell itself and Karolinger was already suffering alongside the rest of them. Not real? Another chance at the ex-Marshall, then, hordes of elves be damned. Only one elf mattered now though. He started towads Bloodmoon as well, to see if anything could be done. Both of their lives were on the line.

[Glenn]

No one opposed him in taking the sword. It was certainly larger and heavier than what the swordsplay student was used to, a very different manner of weapon, but there were enough similarities to think that he would be fairly dangerous with it, especially against those who only had daggers.

With the weapon acquired, there was some question of what to do next. Ariane and the Constable were heading towards poor Seth from one side. A woman seemed to be coming in from the distance to the other. Despite what Agnie said (and there WAS some wisdom in moving, giving the buzzing and heat he could feel eminating from his shoulder), he would not be carrying Seth. No, not while he had the falchion, and he wasn't about to give it up.

Well... if Ariane or Cinnabar asked for it, that might be another story. Right now, however, Cinnabar seemed particularly suicidal, so Glenn would probably deny that request, even if the blade was so very well suited for the Governor.

As it was, Glenn decided it was best to retreat back to Rhaena. He would be better able to protect her now, if it came to that. This wasteland reeked of distaster, an utter disaster the scope of which had not occured since he arrived to Myrken. Here's the thing: Glenn Burnie is uniquely experienced in surviving such disasters. Certain instincts were coming back to him quickly and they mixed well with ones he has developed in the last few months. "Come on," he whispered to the girl. "We're going to get everyone moving in a minute, like Agnie said. Stay close to me. I won't let anything happen to you." Unfortunately, with a sword in one hand and dagger in the other, there was very little he could do to physically reassure her, save to stay close.

"Cinnabar." His voice was surprisingly calm. "Agony is right. We need to get moving. Now. We're just guessing at the rules. People woke up after dying last time. Who's to say they will this time? I'd rather not chance it, alright? Aeryn is a madman." It was best to talk about the madman if he wasn't there, or at least that's what Glenn was figuring. "Look at what he did to Seth for barely any r.." The best thing he could do for Seth was to get them moving, get them out of this situation as quickly as possible. That was their only hope, right? Glenn may have no faith in a higher power, but he had faith in people, in Ariane and Cinnabar, and increasingly in himself. "He's lost a hand already. When the time's right, he'll lose more, ok? For now, you're still the Governor, right?. So govern. Lead us out of this and to safety. We can beat this, right? We can beat him." Somehow, however, despite the bluster, that last bit did not sound particularly certain at all.

And with each step he took, even with Rhaena beside him, the ground continued split and mend in his wake. Ruin continued to follow Glenn Burnie wherever he tread.

[Cinnabar]

Lentham's belt is accepted, weapons tugged free and dropped to the ground for now, out of the mercenary's reach. The knife is taken from the waistband of his thin trousers a moment later, thrown aside with a flicking gesture to stick into the fleshy ground some feet away, sluggish blood seeping up around it. No sense taking chances. The strip of sturdy leather is all that's needed.

Even as Agnieszka protests, the belt's being formed into a loose loop between the Governor's hands. There's a coolness to his gaze, to his features, a terrible silence as leather creaks softly between whitened knuckles. One might imagine him a carved statue brought to life, impassive in expression, deliberate in his movements as he closes on the pair of them, Agnieszka and Aeryn; one might imagine this the face that watched a score of the Baie's followers hang, one by one, spitting their defiance or sobbing useless pleas to their false god when the reality of the end came upon them.

As the others speak, though, the mapmaker and the Constable, there is a pause. Not a hesitation, as such, as that would imply a faltering of resolve, a failing of nerve; this is more a revision of priorities, alternative paths proposed and considered.

The moment passes, though, and the Governor's moving again, motions swift and with a focussed smoothness, as if long-practised and honed; a predator's grace. A hand reaches for Karolinger's upper arm to hold him steady while that loop of leather is held open in the other hand, brought in quickly, but perhaps not in the manner expected. Not to slip over the murderer's head and tighten about his neck as would be fitting; aimed instead for that truncated wrist, Calomel's intent being to slip it around Karolinger's arm and cinch it as tight as he can to stem the man's bleeding. Not gentle, by any means, no effort made to spare him whatever pain might result. What is necessary to keep him alive, and no further. For now.

Quiet words for Agnieszka in the meanwhile, calm and flat.

"This changes nothing."

[Seth_Bloodmoon]

Seth would stop his unsteady steps as it seemed things would be calming down. Twilight Heart's tip was once more poked into the fleshy ground and used as a brace, this time to keep himself on his feet. He was either made of stern stuff or just too damned stubborn to let himself slip into death. He couldn't just let himself die, not with Kurt's life attached to his. Even with the possibility that it would not be a true death.

He takes note of Ariane's and Kurt's approach before closing his eyes for a moment. A slight smirk would tug at his lips, perhaps an odd thing for one in his condition and then, "Appears I shall be more of a burden than of use in this hell..," this spoken to no one in particular. Eyes open once more and he looks to Kurt, "I will hold on for as long as I can..," it was the only promise he could make at this moment in time to the one linked to him.

Silence would claim him now, best to conserve what strength he had left. While he may have turned down aid if his life was not so connected to another's, he will readily accept whatever aid or support is offered without argument.

Of course, were lives not so connected to other lives in such a critical manner, Seth would have used whatever strength he had left to try and kill Aeryn for the gift of a knife in the back. He understands the need to survive, yes, and would not expect an apology. However, he would kill one who tried to kill him. Ahh but the situation is a strange one and so Seth cannot allow himself such a luxury.

At least his knife would find a new friend to wield it, if no one noticed Lavender or tried to stop her from claiming it. Seth surely wouldn't do either in his current state.

[Malaroth]

Lavender. At least now he had a name for this she-devil who may yet prove to be Myrken's greatest dangers. So far she had managed to stay beneath anyone's notice. That she could do so for significant lengths of time would make her difficult to seize once they were beyond the prison. However, first thing's first the Grand Master reminded himself even as she took off. They needed to get out first.

As they crest the rest of the slope he spies the figures embattled beyond, noting them as quickly as he might without losing track of Lavender. The woman-demon, driven mad or attempting to drive him to madness, was dashing for something on the ground, something that reflected the dim light with a murderous glint.

"Lavender," he hissed through clenched teeth as he struggled after her - his bare feet slapping the sickly ground with loud slaps. "Get back here at once!"

The woman would be the death of him yet, he considered, as he hurried to close the distance between them in the midst of whatever tumult had claimed some disturbingly familiar faces.

[Vanidor]

He lay there as the others spoke and consulted one another, as if the man wasn't even there. This was, perhaps, a good idea considering. He was a madman, but he wouldn't open his mouth to further let them know his thoughts on that matter. That didn't change things. For as he lay there, as the others did what they believed they had to do, as Calomel spoke his little ditty on justice and all that rot, Aeryn only laid there and allowed the warmth of his collarbone to say that he was... right.

About something, at least. For there was heat there, and there was a ruddy brilliance that not even the feces strewn landscape could take away from. Eyes that were barely lidded didn't even bother to focus as the loop was made. Barely he saw the hand that reached for his, only smiled a fraction more.

Think you can take me in, do you, you fucking bastard. See if I allow it. See if I care. Where the hell was this -death- they were told about. The stone was certainly warm enough at the shoulder, he could swear that his collarbone was on fire. No blink, through eyelids he saw Calomel's hand desce -

And in that instant, his inactivity caused the eventual. For just as Calomel put his hand upon that of the former Marshal's, his head would detonate in a glorious fountain of blood and brains and bone and other such viscera. Calomel would be left with the belt 'round the wrist of a headless body... But for how long?

[Jirai]

She stared. She stared, and once more horror was creeping into the scaled girl's expression. She trailed behind Glenn Burnie quite closely, a hand pressed over her mouth in shock as Aeryn... exploded. A small noise escaped the girl, comprised of shock, horror, and nausea. And she could not look away.

[Carnath-Emory]

"You've never been a burden," she begins --
Her hand has begun to reach not for Bloodmoon's back, where a knife still dangerously protrudes, but for his shoulder --
Some little wraith of a woman is running at them, and in the distance is Malaroth, Malaroth --

And then Karolinger's head detonates in a spray of clotted blood.

Upon Bloodmoon's shoulder, her hand does not clasp but clutch, and jerks the towering man into motion, as if that were possible at all. That hand is leaving him almost immediately, however, for there is a step towards Calomel and Agnieszka, and then a second, and then she is struck by a moment of keen and piercing certainty --

"Rhaena."

And nevermind that it's Agnieszka who has the most of her attention.

"Rhaena, do not watch this."

[Cinnabar]

Fastening the belt around Karolinger's forearm, a tug to cinch it tight, grim and intent on his task --

-- a dull thud, and something hot and wet strikes him like a blow to the face and chest, blinds his left eye with gore and splintered bone, reduces the hearing in his left ear to a distant roar, confusion --

-- half-turning, he staggers back as gobbets and fragments spatter to mingle with the charnel landscape, and a silvered eye takes in Karolinger's headless corpse, understanding --

-- wheeling around, panicked gaze seeking out those nearest around him, flicking over Agnieszka, Rhaena, Glenn, Seth, Ariane, Kurt, heart hammering in his chest --

-- a growing heat that prickles at the hollow of his throat, that sets his skin to itching and his breath to anxious gasps --

A breath of crisp, clear air, scented with mountain snow and damp cavern chill; the grit of cold stone beneath his bare foot, rough and unyielding; a circle of pale moonlight at his feet, surrounded by impenetrable shadow that lies superimposed on the mad landscape around him; the scrape and shift and deep breath of some great creature hidden from sight.

"Ah."

Maybe a handful of heartbeats passed since Karolinger's violent ending. The Governor straightens from his uncertain half-crouch, tilts his head slightly as if to listen; a moment later he offers a broad, reckless grin to those around him, teeth startlingly white amid the gore. The left half of his face is a crimson mess, shards of Aeryn's skull lodged in his flesh, eye-socket a blinded ruin, hair clotted and clumped with blood and tissue; the right side for the most part unscathed, pale hair in sleep-tousled tufts, silvered eye bright with mirth, youthful skin unmarred save for a few stray specks and smudges.

He takes a deeper breath, then raises his voice to be heard by the others.

"Do your best. Then wake u-"

A flash of golden fire at his throat, and a flower of crimson blossoms in place of his head. A moment of silence after that muffled detonation, and his body topples backwards to sprawl upon the blood-slick ground.

[Seth_Bloodmoon]

Would nod a little at Ariane's words and offer a slight smile but there would be no verbal response. That smile would be short lived as the most grusomely spectacular thing happened, Aeryn's head exploded in a gorey mess.

Elven jaw drops and brilliant blue eyes widen at such an unexpected, horrid sight. His shoulder is clutched and jerked in an effort to send him into motion. This would be enough, coupled with the discomfort the gem in his shoulder offers, to cause him to take a few staggering steps in the direction he has been jerked.

Twilight Heart is planted a third time as he comes to a halt once again and he leans heavily upon the sword, eyes turning towards Cinnabar. He notes that grin on half-ruined face, notes the words the Governor speaks but does not finish. Now Seth forces his attention away from the sight as the man's head explodes.

His eyes are now for Kurt and a few more staggering steps are taken by the tall elf. A look of grim determination play over pained, elven features. What had just occured only hardened Seth's resolve to stubbornly deny death for as long as possible. He had to stay alive... Maybe he could last long enough that they could be free of this place... So that he would not be the cause of his new friend's death. Sure it may not be a true death, but still, even to have one's head explode in a psuedo death... There was also the possibility that the death would be all too final.

[channe]

It is one thing to die in battle, die by the sword, guts all over the ground, holding your intestines, even, split from throat to navel, burned by fire. But he'd always expected battle, had Aeryn, prepared for it with every cinch of his armor, by speaking glory from the throat, from the heart. You could prepare for death in battle, even if the battle comes quickly, in the night --

But this.

There is no stiff upper lip. There is no glory. Not for Aeryn; not, certainly for Cinnabar, although there's a moment of sheer bravery on the governor's part. And these two: they may have been political enemies, and they may have stared at each other with distaste on their tongues, but Agnieszka has never had anything but love for one and sheer respect for the other.

And this is what she thinks: that Aeryn would rather die than deal with Calomel, even for me --
That Calomel will not forgive, not ever --

But those are only fleeing, sighing thoughts, in her head but for the barest quarter-second; they are replaced quickly with a more visceral horror. The unexpectedness of all of this is what did it. Who would have guessed that the ruby jewel would make a dead hash of such vital men?

Who would have guessed that swaggering Agony could be reduced so quickly to her knees, to screaming?

[Glenn]

They all die.

That is the story of Glenn Burnie's life, put as simply as possible. There is a reason why he moves so slow with Rhaena Olwak. Aeryn's death was shocking. Cinnabar's was devastating. Cambree Swinton thinks Glenn to be the Governor's best friend, and she would know.

More than that, Cinnabar was hope. He had just said it. Cinnabar would lead them through this. It was that simple. He had faith in him and him alone to do that.

The old instincts were active now. They were in charge. People dying meant one thing to the Glenn Burnie of old. You were next. To the young man he had grown into, it meant that Rhaena and Ariane and Seth were next too... and was that Tebrin? He too, and ... and Agnieszka, who was necessary right now, very necessary.

This was horror, even terror, for it was CINNABAR who was gone, and in such a manner that would stay with him for the rest of his life, sitting in his mind alongside other such unspeakable images.

If they did not move, this would be them as well.

His hands shook, his whole body quaked, but there was nothing to do about it. Do your best, Cinnabar had said. There was nothing else TO do, save of course to die.

So Glenn was finding his voice. "We move. We move or we die." He knew hatred, not for Karolinger, but for the being who put them there, who would have them learn in such a way. Every single thing that he did in his life was to prevent being put into situations like this, situations where some god controlled his fate. Hatred mixed with that terror and drove him. "WE MOVE NOW! Rhaena, help me get Agnie." His voice dropped slightly and he whispered a quick 'please' to the girl to cap that sentence. He would also pass her his dagger, for she did not seem to have one of his own, and he would need a free hand in a moment.

Then, to Lentham. "Constable. It's well within your best interest to help Seth along. Be as careful as you can." But that was in his best interest as well. None of this might have happened if that man had just stayed his fool hand. There was little regard there, just the usual amount Glenn would give to the uniform.

"Ariane," and here there was some hesitation. Every iota of his being wished to defer to her, but it would be the wrong decision. In a situation such as this, she was a weapon. "If my eyes are not mistaken, Jirai is near. Can you stay her hand with words?" If she could not, none of them could and the violence would start anew, a problem compounded by the fact that Malaroth approached as well. In fact, Glenn nodded in his direction. "I can speak with him, try to get all of us moving. Malaroth will listen to me."

No, Ariane did not quite seem herself, but he had to have faith here too. Either she would do as he ask or she would not. Either way, none of it would matter at all, to him at least, if he could not get Agnie up and moving. He would be dead.

So without waiting for a response from Ariane or the Constable and hoping that Rhaena would be behind him, Glenn moved on towards the misfit Kaczmarek, wincing severely as he got closer to the gore that had once been two men he thought highly of. At least he did not empty his stomach. That would hardly be convincing.

Instead, he spoke softly, but sternly. "Agnie, we need to move now or we die. We sit here and we die and that fucker wins and they don't get avenged and he realizes that he can do anything he wants to us at any time. We're owned all over again." His eyes were for the ground. He couldn't stare at the remains. He reached out for Agnieszka's arm with his free hand. There was no time to mourn now. He could alredy feel the heat in his shoulder. Either he got her to move, NOW, or else he died along with her. It was that simple.

[Tebrin]

They all die.

Why do you think Tebrin took so well to you, Glenn? You share that story, and all of its twists, with the treasure hunter. What else could create a man so emotionally bereft that his love advice consisted of "enjoy the sex and get out before you love her?" It had made perfect sense to Tebrin, and for one reason only.

Everybody just. Fucking. DIES.

This would seem to be no exception. Aeryn's death sent Tebrin's brows skyrocketing - that was particularly gruesome, and even he had to wince, cringing slightly. "Okay. Well, tha' still leaves 'im," he pointed to Lentham. His voice strained slightly. He knew when they arrived, Jirai would kill some poor soul, and that his life had been paired to hers was one of the cruelest twists of irony he had ever known. "Y'know, we also could try t'find th'fucker who put us 'ere, an', y'know, kill 'IM. Rather than each other. Jes' a though'." And with this thought, he had fallen back beyond arm's reach, just in case.

And then there was Cinnabar, and Tebrin's eyes shot immediately to Glenn, and then to Rhaena, and then to Ariane and Agnie. They all seemed to be okay. Should he even be approaching? Who knew what was causing these rather impressive displays of... wait. That gem. That had to be it. And it was lodged there, lingering with latent heat that threatened him the same fate should he STOP.

And so Tebrin, driven more by self-preservation than anything else, continued his advance. If Glenn were anything like him, he would duck and run to prevent a similar fate. Of course, perhaps implosion would be preferable than to live amongst this landscape? The rogue's shrewd eyes watched Glenn carefully, blinked shut briefly when he heard Glenn's shouted command. He had been close. Only, rather than running and caring for himself, he was trying to take all of his friends with him. They would slow him down. They would probably even cost him his life. It was an idiot decision, Tebrin thought to himself, it was stupid and would keep him from attaining his goal - survival.

Tebrin smiled.

[Jirai]

"Rhaena. Rhaena, do not watch this."

Perhaps that was a direction she might thank you for, Ariane. Sometime. But as it was, it came too late. Frozen, for a moment, still staring - oh, how much worse could this get? But the answer was a lot worse, and then she snatched that dagger from Glenn, darting to Agnieszka's side with surprising speed. She'd try to pull the other girl to her in a rough hug, practically ignoring Glenn. "Agnie. Agnie, come with me. Please, Agnie."

[Lent]

Both explosions happened behind Lentham's back. He could guess what occured, the order of things, from what was said, from the screams. Weren't his immediate concerns, though. Bloodmoon was. Didn't need a mapmaker to tell him that. He had reached the target of his aid just as Ariane had been moving away. Elf hadn't moved much since the dagger was thrown. Elf was trying to move on his own. Given the wound, that wasn't a good thing.

A grunt. "If this is real, Bloodmoon, Karolinger got what he deserved for stabbing you in the back. Not real? You then have my word he will get it in due time." There was an attempt to get under Bloodmoon's shoulder, to help support him. He would take as much of the burden as possible to help Seth along. Elf wanted to keep holding on to that sword of his? Fine. Was the sort of thing someone could draw resolve from. "Let's cheat death as long as we can, huh?"

But then there was a look down at Lavender reaching for that dagger and an almost shake of his head. "Afraid you're in the wrong place at the worst time, missy." Would the Constable's weathered but recognizable uniform be reassuring? Could anything truly be reassuring in a place like this?