the waking nightmares aren't as bad as dreaming, i suppose

[morns]

🧙 WHO: Kate (morns) & various (and maybe you?)
⚔️️ WHAT: Sometimes you get canon updated. Sometimes that canon update tells you your brother died. And sometimes you take that really badly.
🕒 WHEN: End of April through May
🗺️ WHERE: Various places throughout Avalon, check the prompts for locations!
⚠️ WARNINGS: Violence, loss, grief, probably other things eventually.

prologue

she comes to with a crick in her neck, aches from passing out on a couch that was never meant for sleeping, pains that numb the knowledge rattling around in Kate's head long enough that she manages to take in the sights of her flat first. everything looks the same, down to the half-drank coffee she had been nursing before her unexpected nap.

except for the dark haired woman staring at her, perched motionlessly on top of Kate's coffee table, a flash of yellow twisting between her hands.

... that's new.

and in that moment, as eyes still heavy from a too-long sleep take in the yellow fabric and her mind puts together the pieces, the dam the aches of her rest created breaks.

the memories return. the solemn, echoing voice of Faith as she stands outside the hotel door and grips her uniform's hat too tightly.

You should know, Marc was found in the break room today at lunch. He'd turned to stone.

she expects pain. a tearing of her chest and the shattering of foundations. but all that comes is a buzzing, hollow noise ringing in her head. the echoes of two simple sentences.

turned to stone
dead
dead
dead

her eyes turn to her familiar, and the obvious becomes clear.

she knew. all this time, she knew. she had to have known.

"Get out."

— caster / the lightning and thunder ignite a wilted rose.

prompt reference

Enter the Edge of the Dusklight Wood and seek out the Shadlins. Though their eyes are haunting and you won't forget about them soon, those brave enough to chase after them will find themselves utterly lost in an endless forest so dense that you cant see the ground or the sky for the treetops and foliage. Don't try to find your way out, just keep walking, listening, watching and following whatever direction you see the eyes of the Shadlins next. Travel with another as the silence of the forest can be deafening and has been known to drive people to talk to themselves, hear voices that will attempt to coax them into doing harmful things to anyone else they run into, or even attract ear wyrms-- a tiny draconic creature that curls around a person's ear and gruffly (they are wyrms) sings the last song they hear endlessly on repeat until they hear a new one-- and doesn't let go unless someone else whispers a song into their ear... at which point, it will switch to theirs. Good luck tricking someone else into trading ear wyrms!

( the dusklight woods are a foreign place to Kate, but maybe that's what she needs now. she doesn't hear the call to go into the woods, but she's here nonetheless, the darkness steadily enveloping the space around her until it fills up her vision and blanks it out.

she keeps walking, deeper and further still into the unknown, the silence baring its weight down so heavy that thought escapes Kate. it breaks something apart, renders time irrelevant in the face of nothingness. the ground beneath her feet and the motion of taking one step after the other the only sign this isn't a freefall.

wherever she'll end up doesn't matter. maybe it never did. she's just one little cog in an endless machine, a soldier. a blade.

she's always known it, but that pointlessness has never seemed so clear before. the scramble for purpose, the reason to keep going even if she hates it, has turned into stone. swiped away from her in one stupid action.

so what does it matter where she'll end up?

well, if it's so bad, shouldn't others feel it too? the whisper comes from somewhere behind her shoulder. if nothing matters, nobody here does!

Kate waves a hand at the nothingness, in the vague direction of the whispers wrapping around her. )

Fuck off.

— archer / maybe i'm wretched and deserve this, i don't know.

prompt reference

Yesterday, you may have seen my work! My new Balloon Spell! Turn any balloon into a death trap, all you have to do is convince your target to take the string! The string will wrap around their waist and become impossible to break, then the balloon's helium will increase to carry them high into the sky, much like the weather balloons they use on some planets. I will send the instructions to any who wish to learn how to do it on one condition: you must use it to rid the world of at least one despicable person. I wish to clean up the roads of Camelot and Elphame! Rise up, vigilantes! Raise your enemies high into the sky! Rise, Heroes!
(OOC Note: They will come down... eventually. Rapidly. Balloons pop eventually. Splat.)

( spells are such simple little things. a few pieces or words and you can do something like this.

Kate's eyes flick from the instructions on her burner phone to the business she's already looked up. there's plenty of dark web rumours about this owner — blackmail, embezzling, choking smaller businesses. and that's just his business transgressions; the list of rumours about his personal sins was much, much longer.

seemed like a perfect fit for this request, in Kate's eyes.

of course, the question becomes: how to get him to take a balloon? locating them isn't a problem, she's already noticed a promotional event a couple of blocks down. but would he even go that way? she frowns. if he's close enough to one, kinetic magic should do the job of getting his hand around it, at least.

hm...

she's so caught in watching the door of the business that she doesn't notice she's not the only person crouching suspiciously in this alley. )

— rei / don't save me, i'm almost glad if this is how i go.

( her feet lead her this way. but that seems to be the theme of things now. her usual restless urges taken to the max. work becomes a weight around her neck rather than an escape, and by the second lesson of the day, she's aching to leave. to stop with the charades of being groomed and sociable, patiently explaining concepts that should be obvious by now.

her staff try to raise questions, pipe up with are you oka— because this has been happening for weeks now — Kate arriving, starting work, and dipping before lunch. she doesn't bother to answer, leaving them to cover the rest of the day by tossing the keys for locking up and all but sprinting out of the place.

and now, after more than a day riding her horse until she finds herself at the edge of everything, she's walked herself to this damn cave. of course she recognises it, how could she not? the damn thing that sprung up fears that, once upon a time, Kate would have shrugged off as the product of an overactive imagination and never going to happen. because Marc was clever enough to know better than to get himself in that situation. clever enough to —

yeah. apparently not.

she steps inside as her stomach knots with a humming, buzzing rage. how dare he be that stupid? nothing was worth it. no power or job in the galaxy could be worth the risk, and yet he took it anyway.

she steps inside because she has to know: just what can a cave of fears show you when you've experienced every worst case scenario life can throw at you? what could she possibly be scared of any more?

and the answer it gives is simple: nothing. the cave transforms into a bleached white space, an empty expanse of nothingness where the only noise is Kate's footsteps as she walks further in. it holds itself there, featureless and bland, and Kate laughs.

of course. )

— wisper of trouble / the monsters in my bed want to beat me to it though.

prompt reference

I've caught a not insignificant number of wisps that came for us a couple of weeks ago and have used advanced sealing spells to trap them in my basement until they have angered and possessed the various household objects I left for them to rage about in. Anyone interested in invading the business of your enemies with a battalion of brutish brooms? All you need to do is round them up in a carriage and open the door at theirs! Rounding them up and driving the carriage with them in there is on you!

( Kate is staring.

and Kate is staring because, well, those are some pissed off looking brooms. the sight is so strange, even after so long here, that the numbness in her head eases off long enough for Kate to turn to her partner for this whole thing, a brow raised, and ask; )

Sure y'wanna use these?

( she thinks murder might be easier and less chaotic than this sabotage plan. just saying. )

— auction / every word that they've said goes round in my head.

prompt reference

The auction begins and despite expectations, money isn't the only thing you're allowed to bid. There are fae involved, and the black market. You can bid organs, services, hot dates, control of your name, all kinds of things! Outside of the the grand prize of the hourglass coins, a glimmering set of coins forged from frosted glass that are able to filter and stabilize time magic on a small-scale, but extremely breakable that is necessary for the success of the Bermuda Station mission later this month, there are other prizes you can win, such as:
Legendary Phoenix Feather - These feathers are extremely rare, from the original phoenix herself. They can be used to defy death and bring back loved ones with healed ailments, no rot or injuries, in perfect condition. (However, it is not legitimate. It is just incredibly shiny. You have been scammed if you bid on this item.)

( at first, Kate only plans to sit in the back of the auction and ignore it. she doesn't particularly want to be here, even if she's dressed for the occasion in a well fitted all-black suit. were it any other month, this should, could be interesting, could be a night of information worth gathering and names to remember, but all Kate sees is a sea of meaningless people given chances her idiot brother robbed himself of.

...not that he'd be here, unless he was busting the whole thing, but that isn't the point. the point is they're all alive and getting to do whatever the fuck they want. they'll have lives to go back to. loved ones to greet. chances Marc decided he didn't fucking want any more.

he's such a fucking idiot.

and her mind continues on the tangent as the auction begins, a blur of hands raising for a myriad of strange items whose descriptions wash over Kate until

... used to defy death and bring back loved ones...

she sits straighter, more alert, dawn cracking through the endless night of her expression as the pieces fall into place.

she could save him. maybe. who knows what the multiversal regulations were but after everything Avalon has done, why couldn't it revive her brother, even across dimensions?

her hand's up before she has a chance to think anything more about it. she needs that feather. she has to try. )