[The Cure] The Citadel

Having one's brains picked while coated in what is meant to be a protective layer of magical ice is an awful experience for reasons Lucas never envisioned happening. Emotionally, his heart remained in a block of ice, and it did not allow any anxiety from a mental health perspective to form. Physically...the deep dive into his brain set off his body's fight, flight, or freeze system. The intensity forced him into a fight mode except that he wasn't able to move so fleeing wasn't an option. When at last he was freed from the cleansing and he managed to catch what came out of his mind in the corner of his eye, all of the built up adrenaline exploded inside of him.

He twisted forward and began to loudly wretch. While Yuan looked over him with a keen medical eye, he would notice that it looked like Lucas was choking on something. Further inspection revealed that whenever the vomit or his saliva would pool up in his mouth, his magic would cause it to freeze up. Instead of vomiting glitter or other strange liquids, he ended up coughing up chunks of ice. The last thing he needed was to cause further panic or dismay among his allies so he used his mantle to draw more mist around him to help conceal the pain he was in.

The Onyx Fairest managed to a weak nod to Riley when they asked if he was okay. He kept his eyes closed over while he listened to Yuan share what he knew to Lamassu while Cinder tried to fight through whatever emotion had gripped her.

The plan, dear, Lucas. Remember The Plan.

Eis' words rang in his head while he slowly pulled himself up onto his feet. For the past several months, he had been following the political atmosphere while gathering more information on the different rites. While he still didn't have a full understanding of how they worked, he knew enough to understand why the court leadership was changing up. If ever there was a time to reveal his cards and make a difference, this was it. 

Just as he fought through his shocked state and was about to share what he knew, Oren and Blaze suddenly appeared which set Lamassu off in turn.

To be completely honest, Oren was having a wonderful time. 

The avian claw pressed against his chest was an unexpected surprise, and not necessarily a welcome one. But Oren was an angel on the head of the pin, drunk on something tearing and sewing itself back up.

The light against his lids when his eyes closed....

Did they close? Has he blinked? 

"Jonny, you old rascal! You can't take the linebacker out of the varsity champ! Not even after thirty years!" he exclaimed with in a middle-aged, nostalgic, and strangely Cockney bellow....to the Sphinx. 

And then Blaze piped in! Thank God! This was starting to hurt his ribs. 

"Yes, friends! We're all friends here! You can tell us anything. What happens in Vegas, am I right?!"

He was starting to get lightheaded. "Hullo, Lukey Looooooo!"

A mess of curls hit the floor of the dream. All sand. Little sense. 



 

The Sphinx, ever volatile and changing in its self image, returned to the much younger replica of Spring Court's past. Despite being humanoid and nothing special about their stature, an immense weight still kept Oren pinned. As before, the peacock train now blended with a trailing tailored jacket, with chromatic liquid glass or quicksilver for skin that sprouted to fractal feathers, and cat eyes matching the Playmate's. On one hand, wicked talons snapped open a fan as they squinted at Oren's crooning with suspicion as they started to hiss and smoke. They were momentarily too busy to properly acknowledge Blaze.

Likely, the Winter was happier for it as she heaved herself from the water and took in the surroundings.

A brutal sun was wreathed in water vapor, preventing the glass surface from searing their senses. Muted thunder reverberated despite the clouds lacking the threat of a storm, with the melted sand smoothing what once cut and burned. Focusing on the horizon—and apparently the exit—hurt in more ways then one, addling the senses. Something roiled beneath the surface to cause the disturbed ocean, but the titanic weight kept it pinned deep below despite the thrashing.

Everything seemed restrained in some form or another, triggering violent pushback—like the Bastion was fighting something embedded into its fabric. As a Changeling, Blaze could see where everything was smoothed and painted over with something more appealing. The general vibe the Ifrit was getting was the peak of a pressure cooker looking for any solution to relieve the problem. It appeared that the Sunbanisher was being overwritten by something else, and given the radiating entity that had just assaulted the pair, it didn't take much math on the Elemental's part. She also recognized that the Sphinx didn't match her read outside, and was clearly not a part of Fawkes' subconsciousness.

However...

The liquid glass quality to the creature seemed unstable, and Blaze's expertise in such things allowed her to see it was indeed Fawkes' influence starting to integrate it, rather than a conscious part of its mien that they had control over. This entity was embedding itself, and doing a very efficient job for the extremes in the Elemental's stubborn nature and natural defenses. This also seemed to be giving the entity its own identity crisis as its attention was spread so thin to influence an entire being and prevent itself from the Bastion detecting and rejecting.

Cinderella watched Blaze, seeing the wheels turning and still keeping her hand close to the Sun Banisher's throat wound.

"Can I just say, I love what you've done with your hair."

Laughter bubbled out of him. Whether or not it was true, it felt literal to him. Globules of glycerin joy wafting out of his chattering. But a part of him knew he was spinning on his heels, and if he continued in this way, it would sure leave his feet broken and bloody.  He did not want to feel that way again. But inner desire paled in comparison to the twist of dream-addled mirth that plagued his features. 



 

The sense of invasion may have influenced Lamassu to not be so patient this time. The moment Oren said 'free to operate' his next breath felt a little too real as his avatar solidified to something permanent and still; while Lamassu's black eyes track something beneath the surface with the pent up energy of a pouncing feline.


The prongs snapped together to plunge behind the Mirrorskin's eye, sliding the addled meat aside to catch something slithering for a third time. It was rooted just as deeply as Lucas', with the tendrils of the feathery centipede twitching and reaching to try and recede back into the psyche that triggered Oren's stomach to kick and flip as the aura of a migraine turned his vision white. The root was an impressive meter by the time the entity was was done threading it to die in a hostile dream. Whatever endorphins were being poured into Oren's nervous system stuttered with the last segment was pulled from his mind and being. There was a melancholic sadness that replaced the wanton high that had been ripped from the Lost.

The secondary form that was speaking to Riley actually did pause during the interval, where it appeared that the late Spring monarch wasn't willing to split their attention when dealing with such things.

How thoughtful.


"They didn't do a very good job protecting your Bastion," Lamassu mused to Yuan's quiet rebuttal, without an ounce of malice but also without empathy towards the Playmate's stung posture. They stared at their claws for a moment, stuck on a thought with their mouth open as their eyes flickered cobalt.

"Um. You know what? We don't have to talk here. I can do better."

The Sphinx shook themselves out, relieving some kind of tension before they gestured their hand, composing the landscape like spinning a dial with the Changelings on the axis. The ocean dropped, cycling rapidly through the cloud cover to pivot off the brief image of an art project before surging too quickly towards it to track details and direction. Gone were Lucas and Cinderella, the parasites, vomit and blood from clothes and unstable shore, replaced with a bright atrium as a pleasant perch above all the sand blasted nonsense. Before the entity continued, colour and cracks viciously tore through the columns in a sonic screech and Lamassu hissed—startled as they snapped their fingers and liquified the damage into a fabricated ribbon. Fawkes was sitting up, hand slowly peeled back by a shaking, unseen force as joints were pried from digging into his throat again.

"Glad you're awake! I would love to get a word in, thank you!" they laughed, teeth grit with a reproachful glance at Oren and Blaze. The Sunbanisher could be a little dramatic. "I would advise not to give him a knife this time. No weapons in general, please."

The former Riddleseeker popped their lips in a frustrated verbal tick before their attention continued with Blaze and Riley. "Oblivion? You suffered enough to suit a need and prevent a collapse. Stories are symbols to satisfy ritual and laws of written consciousness." It all sounded quite pedestrian, like the Sphinx was well past taking interested in that particular puzzle. "I think it's gauche, personally, but the End was never my department. Resurrection and renewal, on the other hand...!"

Their fingers snapped to keep themselves on track from a new fixation. The break of eroding silence and boredom had left the Beastial thing a little overstimulated. "Mhm! Right, the original reason why you are all here. Thank you, Not-So-Silent Arrow. To put it all in plain language, I know your Freehold is under attack, and I would like to speak to my old motleymates about correcting that. Fawkes' Bastion was one of the better environments for me to pull this off. Kai Rose had an annoying habit of trying to peel me out with white-hot, cycling emotion. Plan B."

Riley glances to Yuan at his question, flashing the kind-hearted Emerald a weak but honest smile.

"I don't- I am runnin' out of time" It was the only honest way to describe it. They weren't sure what more to say.

The Bright one nearly flared as the dream formed into a new Ancient classical atrium. Their eyes trace the flowing fabrics painted with the purples and pinks of a setting sun. The Darkling slinked back a bit, drawing in a breath.

Ends? Beginnings. Riley wondered what story the Founders of the freehold had been spinning.

"Do you have a message for them? Or are, do you need us to arrange the meetin'?"

Riley glances at Yuan, Blaze, and Oren for a moment. The sphinx had been patient but had not yet had a chance to speak its mind. The Moth didn't want to see what this entity would do if it hospitality grew thin.