MISSION: THE VOICE IN THE DARK

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   9 . 0

JOKE'S ON YOU • WHERE'S THE BEEF? • WE ALL GO A LITTLE MAD • I AIN'T 'FRAID OF NO GHOST • FYI

// INTRO. JOKE'S ON YOU  

It's in the early hours of the morning, when even the lights around the station are dimmed to emulate an accurate cycle of the day, when your earpieces softly ping with information for a new mission. Viveca’s accompanying message will only play when the file is opened; no one will have to wake up to it, though undoubtedly some early birds (or late night owls) will want to listen to it immediately.

// VIVECA

Good morning, team. We’ve located another orb on an alien planet called 981.C29. It’s in a town called Forsythe Heights. It seems to be just a normal, quiet town, but … be alert. Some weird things seem to have been happening for a while, now, if some of the locals are to be believed. Anyway — gather your things, you leave this evening.

With that slightly ominous intel, it is time to familiarize yourself with the file and its contents, and gather what you need. You'll have time for a nice meal, an extra nap, or maybe several hours of training before the evening finally arrives and it’s time to head to the teleportation platform.

When you get there, it is already lit up, the unmistakable hum filling the room. Viveca and Degar are already there too, greeting each arriving Orber and offering them luck. Once everyone has arrived, the hum grows louder, the machine preparing to send everyone off as usual —

But then you hear something. From your earpiece, that same knock as before, the same lilting voice asking “Who’s there?”, except now she follows it with:

// ???

Boo!

In the ever-louder hum, it's impossible to tell who among the team it is that, after a pause, asks:

“Boo who?”

The answer is as immediate as it is sweet, almost cheerful.

// ???

Please don’t cry! Your chances of success are… 64 percent.

You barely have the time to process this, or the way Viveca and Degar look at each other with alarm, when the teleportation yanks you away into a bright, white light. There, instead of the lilt of the unknown woman, you hear a whisper, echoes from far away, telling you what it is you must do … but before you can answer, the light around you fades and you feel solid ground beneath your feet.

Welcome to Forsythe Heights.

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// PART I.WHERE'S THE BEEF?  

The weather has cooled down considerably when you arrive in Forsythe Heights, the autumn season truly upon the small, cozy town. It’s reflected in the reds, oranges and browns of the leaves in the trees, and slowly forms a cover over manicured lawns and gathers at roads-end drains, sticking to metal grates and concrete curbs. It’s the perfect time for pumpkin pie and warm hot cocoa, and All Hallow’s Day is well on its way with the slow emergence of decorations in front of houses. For those who have always lived here, it’s just ‘that time again’; and for those freshly arrived, it’s time to find a way to blend in.

1.0   The Town —— With your established cover stories at hand, it’s time to explore Forsythe Heights. Upon entering the cozy town, you’ll be greeted by a block of restaurants and a few select shops before Lilian’s Bed and Breakfast comes up on the road. Beyond that is the library (with a small but robust collection of fiction and archived newspapers) and the mayor’s office, the police department and the fire station. Rows of shops line Main Street too, with goods ranging from clothing and food items to accessories and knick-knacks of varying levels of usefulness (and entertainment). After this are the residential neighbourhoods, with blocks of quaint houses on streets like Acorn Avenue and Beaver Creek and Elmgrove Street; Forsythe Heights Elementary School and High School are nestled comfortably within, making the commute no longer than a pleasant morning walk from most houses.

With All Hallow’s Day approaching, the town has been decorated to suit, but there are still events one can join in on too: pumpkin-carving competitions, decoration creations, face-painting, and festive pastry-baking (with all the ins and outs of using orange icing to the best of one’s ability!). The elementary school will also be hosting a bake sale a week before All Hallow’s Day to fund the annual class party, a task that has been newly assigned to Mr Harris this year. Feel free to sign up for various activities through speaking with those in the community running them, join in and blend in with your fellow resident.

2.0   Forsythe Pleasantview Cemetery —— By the church, Our Lady of Lonely Souls, is a large expanse of lush land lined with pathways and trees and rows of headstones of varying shapes and sizes. It’s easy enough to find one’s way there, past the town hall and the library nearby. It’s a peaceful walk and beautiful when it isn’t raining or frigid with the winter ice. Today might be an exceptionally beautiful autumn day, with the leaves having made a carpet of colour, and one can get a great overlooking view of Forsythe Heights.

As you walk among the stones, you might catch the faintest whisper on the wind but otherwise this place doesn’t seem to evoke any sort of unease. Of course, you might not want to stay anywhere past 6:30PM when the caretakers of the cemetery … gently but forcibly send visitors home with vague answers to any questions. It might not be impossible to linger by the gates and chat up the caretakers for any possible conversation, but you’ll have to be the right kind of charming. And, of course, catch them on a good day.

3.0   Wright Central Mall —— Just past Forsythe Heights, on the next exit along the freeway, you might come across a large two-storey building that sprawls over a large lot surrounded by asphalt. There are fragments of an ambitious vision poured into the weathered concrete and the smooth stone surfaces, memories of a bustling shopping epicenter that now sits empty with all businesses closed, the structure of Wright Central Mall itself a retail graveyard. It may prove to be something of a challenge to get past the tall barbed fencing, and the large bright yellow sign warns trespassers that their attempts to enter are forbidden and will be punished by law, but it isn’t an impossible feat either.

Once you move past the padlocks and chains and through the large metal doors, you’ll be greeted with the darkness and the musty scent of debris and a space fallen to disuse and disrepair. Storefronts are empty and abandoned. Some stores may still see scraps of old merchandise (nothing especially useful: clothing, unmatched shoes, old books, random accessories), covered now in a thick layer of dust. The escalator no longer runs, but it still works plenty well enough as a staircase to lead you up to the second level where a now defunct food court once existed, some of the signage now left broken and shattered into pieces.

Wandering through this long forgotten shopping mall might offer different experiences for some. There are small shops with none of the lights on, dark spaces that seem even darker no matter how long you adjust your eyes. As you explore these stores you might feel the walls begin to shift and draw closer, swallowing you into the darkness, paralyzing you. You can try to scream and claw your way out but it feels as though you’re stuck, your limbs locked into place.

Hopefully one of your fellow orbers will find you and pull you out from the dark — whether it’s all in your own head or not. ♪

4.0   Main Street —— Forsythe Heights has never been bustling, but those without a regular nine-to-five seem to populate the main street of the town where most of the shops and cafes and restaurants are situated. There is no other way to describe it: it’s quaint. This is where you might find that one-of-a-kind scarf or hat, something homemade and not too mainstream. There’s a bookshop and general store, and little shops for knick-knacks. At the cafes (of which there are two to choose from: Patty’s Diner; or for coffee addicts, Alvin’s Roastery) you might sample artisanal hot beverages ranging from coffee to tea to the richest cocoas, and try the croissants at Alvin’s as well. Patty offers great food for lunch or dinner, and might happily chatter away at you if you try her latest menu item.

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// PART II.WE ALL GO A LITTLE MAD  

The sun sets quickly now during this last leg of the year, and by early evening the lights in the town start to come on, illuminating the interiors of houses and other businesses along the main street like stars. Carved and plastic pumpkins alike glow bright orange at door stoops and in windows, and while the sky is covered in cloud, the glow of the waxing gibbous moon still painting rooftops in a cool, white-ish light.

5.0   Cemetery: Revisited (CW: body horror, some descriptions of gore) —— If you decide to chance getting caught and possibly arrested for trespassing, you might decide that it’s well worth exploring Forsythe Pleasantview Cemetery after hours. The groundskeepers lock up the premises at 6:30PM sharp and disappear into their car to drive past the slight crest in the road that leads to their home. It isn’t very far away in the case of an emergency, but then they haven’t come across such things in … some time.

You might find that the cemetery now feels inextricably different with the sun’s last light fading into evening; in fact, it’s almost eery. The wind feels colder, almost biting. It seems to whisper words in your ear as it hisses past you. The grass beneath your feet crunches like the sound of something dry and brittle, something like bone — only when you look down at your shoes, there’s nothing there except for the grass and dirt and dust. When you look up, however, you might find a gaunt face staring back at you, a blur at first but slowly it takes the shape of something familiar, someone you know or knew from home. Their eyes are dark and empty, hollow holes in a pale face that smudges in and out of focus like flashes of a horrible image. They might look as though they’re in pain as they reach out, flesh hanging from bone and yet looking barely corporeal. And they may open their mouths with chipped, blackened teeth and an equally black tongue but as they try to speak words to you no sound comes out. They're just cold whispers in your ear, nothing more than the wind. ♪

6.0   Forsythe Elementary (CW: some descriptions of gore, uh ... giggling children?) —— The skies are fully dark by the time you find your way towards the elementary school. Somehow, without the presence of staff and students, the building feels like a cold, haunted shell of itself. Should you dare to go in — after bypassing the locks, of course — you’ll be met with dark corridors, echoing classrooms, and the wind whistling through the emptiness, seeming to come from outside … except no windows or doors are really open. You might see a dark smudge up ahead that seems to shift and move, sending a chill crawling up the length of your spine. If you happen to have a torchlight with you, throwing a spotlight onto the shadow, there’s nothing there.

Continue on and you may suddenly be transported to a different place all together, the glossy hallways now a room you remember vividly, or a field, or battle arena. Your worst memory slowly begins to materialize before you to be lived through again, and you might scream for help but find no response. Or, if you move along the long corridor and study the postings and drawings and notices on the walls, colourful push-pins keeping equally colourful flyers in place, you might start to notice the words start to change or bleed into each other. They become bold and black and appear to drip down the length of the page with threatening messages or deep, dark secrets revealed, clear before your eyes. Whether this message is for you, and you alone, is dependent upon the strength of your fear.

Whispers might follow you, a shadow taking shape that looks eerily like you — only it murmurs your worst fears at you, taunting you, provoking you into doing something foolish. Maybe it asks you to claw at your own face, or find someone else to harm. Will you ignore it? Or will you give in? And if it isn’t whispers, you might hear the clear peal of children giggling somewhere just out of reach of you, in another class room or down the hall. No matter how long you try to chase it, you can never quite catch sight of them.

Do you continue to explore or do you try to find a way out, hoping to escape the horrors in this school? ♪

7.0   The Town After Dark —— By the time the sun goes down and the skies are dark, most of Forsythe Heights’ residents have closed their stores and cafes and departed for their homes. The town suddenly looks very different without its residents out and about, the shadows seeming to be larger and darker without the sun to keep them at bay. And are those … ghoulish, grinning faces behind the display windows, hidden amongst the clothing mannequins or past the darkness? No, no, that must be your imagination.

Out here it might seem peaceful at first, but it quickly becomes unmistakable — somewhere in that cool, cold distance, there’s the low growl of something primal that slowly becomes a howl at the now-full moon. And among that are more hushed whispers and strange sounds carried across the breeze, foreign grunts and groans and clicks from under shadow. Some of you might try and investigate the source of these sounds, but others of you might want to find shelter or quickly make your way back to the homes you’ve made here.

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// PART III.I AIN'T 'FRAID OF NO GHOST  

Everything seems to come to a head when the clock strikes 3AM on the morning of All Hallow’s Day. The strange happenings within Forsythe Heights have been increasing in frequency and strength, sights that are hard to dismiss and hard to excuse if you and the rest of the team have been investigating locations around town during the nights. A fog has set in now, obscuring the sharp lines of building forms and the curbs of the roads to a blurry watercolour painting. From wherever you might be now, the strangest feeling seems to settle over your chest like a pressing weight, prickling at your skin and raising the hairs on your arms.

Something is coming. No. Something is already here.

8.0   Witching Hour —— A dark silhouette begins to take shape through the thick fog. It appears to approach you and the rest of the team but it takes its time, slow and meticulous in its movement. The air is colder now, each exhale a cloud of condensation, and you wish you brought an extra jacket. Your eyes remain trained on the shadow drawing nearer, it’s like you can’t look away even if you want to. (But some of you might, just to exchange a look with your fellow orber.) The figure doesn’t quite walk, but it isn’t gliding either. The air tingles with a girl’s cackling laughter now, but it sounds too familiar, as though it might have been sampled directly from a popular horror film. It seems to be cut out immediately by another voice, low and guttural, murmuring nonsensical words like something possessed, before a different voice all together claws its way past the growls and the giggles. It’s a boy’s voice, and it doesn’t sound any older than twelve or thirteen.

Is it time to play again?

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SOME QUICK FACTS ABOUT THE JUMPSCARE MECHANIC:

• What is a "jumpscare"?
A jumpscare is a mod-initiated prompt using one or more of your character's fears listed here. Once initiated, players can treat it as if it were a specific starter or a prompt in a top level, and react and respond accordingly.

There will be no follow-up by the mods.

The player who the jumpscare is for can decide whether to treat it like an open prompt (everyone can tag in), or a closed starter (only pre-planned tag-ins). Please make sure to plot for this amongst yourselves for tag-ins. Feel free to make use of the initial ooc plotting post for this.

• When will it happen?


• Where will it happen?
— Though note that every jumpscare thread will be considered a "log" thread for AC, regardless where it happens.

● ● ●

F Y I

• The events in this log take place during the month of October. The team will return to the station by the end of October.

• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

• To submit a search request regarding exploring a specific place or speaking to an NPC, please do so HERE.

• If you would still like to opt in for a jumpscare, you may do so HERE. We will be accepting them until October 20.

• A gentle reminder: please make sure to properly mark your threads for content warnings and/or mature content.

• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

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Comments

[dr_unconscious]

[The man doesn't stir when he's prodded. Not even his eyelids move, like they might be if he was slumbering. He's eerily still and cold.]

[In the Astral, though, Clayton's soul is much more active.]

[There's plenty to see around him, which is odd in its own right. Little wisps of energy dance and pulse in the distance; they remind him of the torn shreds of a memory leaking away, fizzling into the void, except these ones seem to be going somewhere. Clayton watches the bundles flicker in the distance. He should follow them, get a sense of their physical destination--]

[--except suddenly there's something pulling him back. Clayton's tether to his mind tenses and he flips around, noticing for the first time a mind adjacent to his. Must've just made contact, he realizes.]

[Should he be worried? Well, maybe, he doesn't know who this is, but it looks like a normal enough mind to him from the outside and it's a safe enough guess that they're an Orber, too, because who the hell else would be wandering around the spooky ghost town at this time of night?]

[Then more importantly: Should he try to contact them?]

[Obviously Clayton could just slip back into his mind and wake up, pretend to have passed out. He almost does. But this little annoying, nagging thought tells him that he's part of a group full of people with powers far stranger than his, and that his employers are probably expecting him to coordinate his powers with theirs at some point or other. Maybe he should just...get it over with.]

[Tentatively, Clayton reaches out and touches Rosinante's mind. It's a temporary, surface-level connection, not enough to intrude on his thoughts or memories, but enough that Rosi probably feels a little tickle in the back of his head to add to that already present sense of malaise. And, of course, it's enough for Clayton to think at him.]

Hello? Please don't freak out.

[callada]

[That initial sensation is strange and uncomfortable. The sort of thing that really makes him cautious, because he's felt something a little like it before with someone now gone. He had immediately shut them out and pulled away.

But this is different if only because the situation is so different - he's trying to make sure the person in front of him isn't dead, and nothing clearly indicates that that person is the source of the voice. He looks around, half expecting there to be an actual ghost behind him, but there's nothing other than the strange, dim surroundings softened by fog.

So the voice is in his head, then. Not unlike the earpiece, or the orbs. He knows how to think at disembodied voices now - not something he ever would have thought of, once upon a time. He's tense when he replies,]

You have ten seconds to explain who you are and what you want.

[gusurules]

[After responding to the network call for assistance, it did not take Wangji too long to arrive. He was already out investigating what he could the same as most of the Orbers, but it seems he was the first to respond.

He jogged over to the two and set his sword down, reaching out to take Clayton's wrist in his hand and press two fingers over his pulse point while feeding in a thin stream of his own qi to see what he could of the bodily ailments. Whether or not the man had training in circulating his own, Wangji should - hopefully - be able to tell if he was affected by something mundane (like alcohol or illness) or something supernatural.]

How long?

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton's answer is hurried, a clear sense of urgency and regret traveling through his soul's touch. He doesn't want to make anyone upset.]

I'm Clayton Epps, the guy you're--hold on.

[Suddenly there's another mind next to him, so close and bright that it's nearly overwhelming. Someone he knows? No - someone else touching him. But the mind's veneer does look a little familiar. Perhaps this is someone he's met before.]

[Either way, they're close enough and Clayton doesn't want Rosi to play telepathic telephone, so he reaches out his other hand to the second mind and connects them. With Clayton as the conduit, he and Wangji should now be able to hear each other's surface thoughts, as well as his own.]

[Clayton clears his throat.]

--There we are! Sorry 'bout that, y'all should both be in the loop now. Clayton, guy on the ground? I just wanna talk.

[A beat. A small amount of amusement escapes him, like an unheard chuckle.]

Are my ten seconds up?

[callada]

[Rosinante looks at Wanji as he walks up, first with cautious, narrowed eyes, but then he relaxes as his shape takes form in the low light. That's the guy who had offered to help.

More than that, he's familiar. He'd thought so vaguely over the video stream, but in person it's even more obvious. He's seen someone like him before, hasn't he? Early on, and then again, in Wei Wuxian's artwork.

There will be time for questions later, because his attention is quickly pulled back to the voice in his mind. Gods, what a weird evening this is turning out to be.]

Guy on the ground, huh. You one of the psychic types, or is there something else going on here? I had to ask someone to come and make sure you're all right.

[gusurules]

[He is alarmed at first, when the mind speaks within his without his initiating a mind spell. But the voice is Clayton's and he can feel the man's energy faintly tethered to his body now that Wangji's qi has circulated through Clayton's meridians. He is not a cultivator, but he does have training in using his own energy in a manner similar.]

His consciousness is outside his body.

[Wangji answers Rosi's question while maintaining the qi feed to Clayton. He does not know if Clayton needs it, but it may make it easier to return to his body if there is an outside source of energy to pull from.]

Dangerous.

[If Clayton can read emotions with his mindlink, there is a deep well of concern with the reprimand. Though the tone and Wangji's expression look quite detached, if perhaps angry, it is only worry that drives him at the moment.]

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton can't sense others' emotions at this surface level of connection, but he can certainly push his own. The little flash of panic he feels is hard to push down, coming through in spite of the pleasant, mysteriously boosting energy radiating from Wangji's mind to surround his wayward soul.]

I promise this is intentional. [There's some anxiety, there.] I just, ah. Didn't expect anyone to come find me.

[Then, hesitantly directed in Rosi's direction: ]

...How many 'someones' are we talkin' about?

[callada]

Just the one. So it's you, me, and him. Maybe next time don't lay in a pile of trash if you don't want someone checking on you.

[Okay "trash" is overstating it, but still. He looks over and then nods at Wangji, meanwhile, grateful for the partial explanation, because at least someone else here seems to understand what's happening. Makes it more plausible that this is actually Clayton talking in his head, and that it isn't some trick by one of those awful shadows that seem abundant in this town.]

So what are you doing, exactly?

[gusurules]

[He is not surprised it's intentional. But that doesn't stop it from being dangerous.]

Have you achieved your goal?

[He asks without waiting for Clayton to answer Rosi's question, asking it immediately after. Both could be easily answered at the same time and if the purpose had not been obtained, then they could make efforts to help him complete it. And get him back to his own body.]

[dr_unconscious]

[That anxiety transitions cleanly to rueful self-consciousness, a sensation like a nervous chuckle without ever actually hearing one.]

That's...fair. Mostly tryin' to hide from whatever's howling out there.

[A beat.]

--Not my main goal--sorry, unclear. All of the visions and hallucinations and stuff folks have been seein'... [Notable, personal concern drifts from Clayton's soul in a wave. The things he's been experiencing. That's driving a lot of this.] ...Sounds like someone's messin' around in the Astral. I wanted to take a peek. Didn't get too far 'fore y'all showed up.

[callada]

[Rosinante lifts an eyebrow, but then looks at Lan Wangji for help explaining also, because what the fuck is the Astral. He can sort of guess based on old mythology, but that stuff isn't what he thinks of as real and probably isn't relevant here exactly, or isn't entirely the same thing.]

Would it mess up your... Whatever you're doing if I move you? I'm staying in a spare room in town. You can use that if you're going to be doing this for a while. Got to be more comfortable.

[Heather will certainly ask questions, but he can probably make something up.]

[gusurules]

[Wangji is also not sure what 'The Astral' is. The term is unfamiliar to him in combination with spirit-tethering.]

Would it not be better to hide inside? Or is your spirit blocked by physical objects?

[dr_unconscious]

Wouldn't mind inside. Couldn't get none of the shop owners to let me stay overnight here, but if y'all have a place nearby and don't mind me hangin' around for a few hours, I'd owe ya.

[A pause, and some waffling later, Clayton continues.]

Normally I'd just pop back in and walk myself, but...it's real hard findin' my way 'round and I don't wanna lose my place. It's awful strange here. There's all these...weird, wispy things, floatin' all over. I need to figure out where they're goin'.

[callada]

Right. Up you go, then.

[His height has its advantages, and one of them is lifting average-sized people and hauling them around like gangly sacks of flour. He scoops Clayton up, then lifts him as he stands, before folding him over one shoulder.

Carrying an unconscious guy around will definitely earn them a few looks on the short walk, but oh well.]

[gusurules]

[Wangji's 'home' wasn't very close, but he hoped that the other man's was. At least then it would be safer for everyone. Since the strange happenings didn't seem inclined to occur inside most buildings. Just select ones.]

If your spirit needs to stay, I will continue feeding your body energy to keep your strength.

[dr_unconscious]

[There was a point in his life when having his body moved like this while traveling would've wrenched him back into consciousness. By now, Clayton's gotten used to it - like someone might eventually handle being seasick by riding on more boats. He braces and waits for the vertigo strumming his tether to subside. Inevitably, some of that sense of moving-without-actually-moving is going to pass through to Rosi and Wangji, but Clayton does his best to mitigate it.]

Is that what you're doin'? Neat! It feels real nice. I'm able to go like this for a hot minute myself, but I won't argue 'gainst some extra support in case I run into somethin' nasty out there.

[There's a bit more waffling, this time more tangibly passed as anxiety through Clayton's tenuous connection with his companions. He has an idea, but doesn't want to posit it...until he realizes that these two know enough, and he really has no business hiding anything about his powers from them that could be eminently beneficial.]

--I could keep y'all in the loop while I'm out, if you'd like? Needs a stronger connection though.

[callada]

[Oh, hell, that is a weird feeling. Rosinante sways and puts a hand out to steady himself against a nearby building. Sharing any sort of headspace with anyone else is forever going on his list of things he never wants to do.

But after a moment, he figures he can deal with it long enough to get to Heather's place just down the street.]

I was going to ask about those wispy things anyway, once we got going here. What does a stronger connection require?

[That's definitely not an immediate yes from him, even if he's interested in knowing more. He's able to wait until later, if a stronger connection means any deeper invasion of his mind.]

[gusurules]

[Wangji frowned and then let out a huff of air.

He reached out to stop Rosi with one hand and pull very lightly on a sleeve to get him to turn around. Then he focused his own qi into his fingers, held them in front of his face as he closed his eyes, touched his forehead, and then touched Clayton's. Between his head and Clayton's a soft blue light stretched for a second before fading. The tips of his fingers continued to glow.]

I can connect us. Use your strength to explore.

[He said over the newly formed connection between him and Clayton, and then aloud to Rosi:]

I will form the connection. I must touch your forehead.

[It wasn't quite the same means that Clayton used, but it functioned much the same. Less emotional bleed, however.]

[dr_unconscious]

A tether. Makes what we've got goin' currently more of a long distance, two-way thing instead of me just--oh?

[The connection Wangji forms with him is difficult to miss. In the Astral, Clayton sees it as the tendrils of energy already surrounding him from Wangji's mind slithering down his own memory tether to his mind, then solidifying into something tangible. Wangji's thoughts come in crystal after that, and yet they're removed of the feelings Clayton would associate with such clarity - cold, like someone reading him a transcript in monotone. He notes that the connection also isn't currently attached to Rosi. Technically Clayton could open the gates and let Wangji's thoughts spill through to Rosinante, but he hasn't given either of them direct consent to do so, nor can he assume Wangji wants their conversation to be shared.]

[Thankfully, threading his thoughts between multiple people is a skill Clayton has gotten pretty good at. He keeps both hands touching his companions' minds, then just sprouts another and uses it to grip the new tether Wangji has built, using it as a focus. Directed down only this path, Wangji should hear, ]

I appreciate it. Thank you. You sure this ain't taxin' you too much? Kinda feels like you're usin' your own energy for it.

[callada]

[He hesitates as Wangji explains, and is glad he's tall enough that he has to allow the reach by bending down first. He listens to Clayton, but it sounds like the explanation of what he's found will have to wait while they get this sorted out.]

Only if the result is something like what we have here. Conversation only.

[Paranoia, privacy, and a haunted past brought closer to the surface by the things in this town all make him a little extra-cautious. Now that he knows Clayton isn't dying or anything, he's already leaning toward backing out of this entirely and just carrying him while the other two talk in their minds all they like, but he's willing to continue if it's simply an alternative to the network while one of them isn't all that present in his physical body.

And if the answer says only that, sure, he'll bend down low enough to allow it. He can trust just that much, for now.]

[gusurules]

[He is certainly the tallest man Wangji has ever met and considering how much Nie Mingjue towered over everyone, that was an accomplishment. However, between Rosi bending and Wangji stretching, there really wasn't a strain for either of them in getting Wangji's fingers to touch Rosi's forehead.]

Mm. Conversation only.

[To Clayton, Wangji sent a pulse of spiritual energy from his golden core. While he usually kept it tamped down so that it did not overwhelm others, the pulse sent out would be enough for Clayton to get the impression of a miniature sun - bright and gold and strong - spinning inside Wangji's lower dantian (just below his navel).]

Not an issue.

[Now that the connection was established, Wangji spoke to them both through the mindlink he'd created. No emotions spilling over, though tonal inflections did become clear now that he was no longer concentrating on holding the link open for another to be added.]

I can maintain the link nearly indefinitely if there is nothing else taking my energy. Anchoring Clayton-gongzi and maintaining it tonight should be no issue so long as I am not needed to otherwise defend us.

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton had been aware that Wangji was drawing from something to generate that tether, but getting a glimpse of the source itself makes him realize just how ignorant it was of him to assume the guy might run out. He has what look like - what feels like - the energy of a thousand souls spinning around in his person, with only a tiny fraction of it escaping to create a link between the three of them now.]

[It makes him a little nervous, actually.]

[Some of that anxiety spreads through Clayton's lingering surface-level connection between Rosinante and Wangji, before he decides to test it properly and lets go with all three hands. His emotions and that pesky, seasick sensation from his body being carried slip away with him, while Wangji's tether stays tightly bound to his soul. Clayton takes the liberty of moving it to the more comfortable location of his ankle.]

Alright...how are we? Y'all still there? What's the range on this thing?

[callada]

Still here.

[He confirms, and adjusts his hold on Clayton, who has begun to slip just a little. Even the weight of one fairly average person starts to feel heavy after a while.]

Place I'm staying at is just one more block down. Almost there. So, what have you found so far?

[gusurules]

Around five li. Somewhere just under two miles by the common measurement of this place. Every li will require more energy. It is better used in relatively close distance.

[Wangji held his sword at the ready, taking up responsibility of guarding both of them for the trip. Just in case. While he had yet to experience an attack in the nightly fog, that did not mean it wouldn't happen.]

I will maintain your strength after we are safely inside. Until then, stay with us.

[dr_unconscious]

[That's not quite the range Clayton was hoping for, but it will have to do in a pinch. Thankfully his disappointment doesn't carry through Wangji's version of a tether.]

I might have to come back and make somethin' a little stronger if I notice stuff outside that range. But I'll stay put 'til you're ready.

[Then, directing his thoughts to both parties instead of focusing on Wangji, ]

What I've found...not much yet. Weird, wispy stuff all over the place. Astral tends to be pretty empty, but it's buzzin' here with all kinds of loose energy goin' places.

[A beat, as Clayton takes another studious look around the void.]

...I think they're all goin' to the same place, actually.