[Mostly Open] So we'll press, and press 'til you can't take it anymore!

[groupiedrifter]

CHARACTERS: Precursors and you. And Eventually Newton. Hopefully!
LOCATION: A holding room in Ximilia Station.
DATE: Est. two days post-mission, after the kaiju is defeated and the orb is retrieved.
CONTENT: The precursors are revealed — and are finally removed from Newt's mind.
WARNINGS: Possession and the bodily autonomy issues that come with that. More will be added if necessary!

Closed and opened starters will be added as I go, which will be announced on plurk! But if you don't use plurk or would rather keep an eye out by email/tracking, feel free to use the tracking option and mark to receive notifs any new top level comments posted to this log! The log will involve an open starter to visit the precursors where they're cuffed/contained in the room, so stay tuned.

Also no rush once the open starters are posted!

Feel free to focus on the player plot log first and come back to this later.

CLOSED STARTER | THE DOCTOR
DARKLING'S TOP LEVEL | WHILE NEWT WAS SLEEPING...
OPEN STARTER | THE PRECURSORS, REVEALED
CLOSED FINAL CONCLUSION | THE PRECURSORS, REMOVED
OPEN PROMPTS | NEWTON GEISZLER'S RETURN

Comments

[aurable]

[ Living shadow pours up the walls with the unstoppable rush of blood spilling from an artery. Drift is still, watching to see if the Darkling will attack or exsanguinate on the black unloading of all his anger. ]

I want you to think about where you are for a start. [ Drift's gaze flicks to the wall before falling back on the Darkling. The thought of what the Cut could do to living steel registers, but he would like to keep that all in the hypothetical. ]

What do you think will happen — that you can waltz in and be judge, jury, and executioner? We're standing in a confined space floating in an endless vacuum, and we don't need to find out if you can start punching new windows in the station in your bid for retribution or because someone needs to stop you from getting more out of hand.

[ Making this tragedy twofold with someone dead or locked away. Drift didn't say that. He didn't think he should have to. ]

Please just stop for a second and ask yourself how this is going to go.

[cruelyethuman]

We are all floating in the darkness, Drift.

[A pointed flat note to his voice as he watches, as his eyes narrow and the shadows bleed down to pool on the floor around them. They writhe, an endless sea of black tentacles and they lap at Drift's feet.]

I was trying to keep us all safe, but not everyone here wants that. Did you feel it, Drift, the fear that rushed in when he started blowing up the train and we- well, most of us- were so amputated, so powerless- that he had almost free reign.

[Voice dropping to a harsh whisper as the shadows rise up behind him. A wall cornering them both in a circle of darkness, blotting out the light.]

He must have been planning this for months. Looking us in the eye while plotting the best way to kill us all. How many silly and childish messages did he send out, just to see who would fall for this harless act? But now we know.

Now we know.

[aurable]

Now we know—

[ Drift sees the hints of fear reverberating off of the Darkling. A spider's web of a thread plucking at the wider web of the unknown and shrinking in the echo. The Darkling is old — he is very old and tired.

With barely a flick of the wrist, Drift grips the handle of one of his swords and sends it flying at the Darkling's feet. Shadows shiver and disperse and in the momentary distraction, Drift feints. He dodges through a forest of shadow until his arms encircle the Darkling. Shadows flare and lash out, but Drift holds its master close.

Drift wraps his arms around the Darkling a little bit firmer and says, ]

I'll never give up on you.

[cruelyethuman]

[The darkness wash in like a frothing sea, raising up to protect him as the sword slams down in front of him and the Darkling's hands are already moving with the comforting and familiar circle to form the Blade of shadows and send it hurtling to Drift.

Uncaring if it rips the station apart, as long as he survives - and wouldn't he? It would take more than the vast emptiness of space to kill him, when a dagger to the heart or any of the inventive tortures in Shu Han didn't.

He would live forever, but Drift-- no, it was time to end those millions of years.

The Cut forms between his fingers, the darkness vibrating with his intentions, the call of his Small Science bringing in the darkness that surrounds them all, when--]

What?

[Strong arms around him, holding on even when his hands drop, shadows bleeding off of him, billowing down the hallway and filling up the corridor with nothing but impenetrable shadows.] What are you doing?

[Standing ramrod straight in the circle of Drift's arms, he tilts his head back arrogantly, nostrils flaring.]