Main Role-Play Thread [Adventure 1]

[Emiya Shin]

Sophie Bordeaux
​

After everyone arrived at Lenka's room, the sight of it was horrendous. Sophie dropped her jaw and her eyes widened as she witnessed a burning person in front of her for the first time. She remained frozen for the next few seconds before frantically looking around her environment, hoping to find something to smother the flames. However, she was hesitant. Just when Sophie managed to override her cautious mindset, Collin already tackled the burning person to the ground, and started rolling in attempt to extinguish the flames. The black haired girl cried out at his actions, heavily wondering is it the right thing to do. At the same time, she also felt that the room is getting colder as well.

Sophie quickly turned to Madison and Leon, hoping that they would do something to the ongoing situation. As she is just an ordinary Author, there was nothing much she can do right now. With that, she began to focus on the blazing girl, hoping to pick out a piece of her consciousness.
 


@Syrenrei

 

[Syrenrei]

Novalie
​

"I'm glad someone thinks so," Novalie replied to Matthew casually. Most of the time people that saw her and Leon together found his dry, cynical commentary to be much more humorous than anything she could muster. Of course she wasn't trying to make a joke but she'd take a compliment wherever it was. Was Mother a funny woman? As she stood in front of the door, her hand raised slightly to knock, she furrowed her brow slightly. As the years started to creep on her recollection of Mother became more and more hazy images, impressions, increasingly smaller slices of time of clarity. It was impossibly hard to rise to the image Mother had created and the difficulty only rose as the reality of history crumbled away. Father now spoke of Mother with such rose-tinted fondness one would think she was a saint impossible of erring. If she asked would he really know if Mother had been funny?


Novalie rapped her knuckles twice on the wooden door before Matthew became suspicious. The thud echoed through the tiny house. There was what sounded like a raspy voice inside but Novalie couldn't quite make out what it had said. Instinctively she turned to the side to ask Leon if he had heard the utterance but she found Matthew instead. On the inside she reprimanded herself for her dependence on Leon. Perhaps her older brothers were all right in that she and Leon spent a touch too much time together. But who else would accept the imperfections Novalie so expertly hid from the rest of the world. "I was going to ask if you understood that but I doubt it was English," she admitted to Matthew with slight embarrassment.


She was hesitant to just barge in with the presumption they had been invited inside. She stepped forward and placed both hands upon the smooth wooden surface, palms flat and fingers spread wide, before placing one ear to the door as well. Leon had often described to her how 'creepy' it was to watch her dream but she was confident that he over-exaggerated as often did. Her eyes took on a vacant stare straight ahead as she focused on the sensations. There was not much in the way of impressions left on the door to pull out, but she focused herself and tried to will something, anything, of value from it. When the image did come through she jerked back and rubbed her hands on her slacks.


Composure. Composure. Matthew was here and watching. He called her boss, remember? She was supposed to be in charge of this motley crew of Preservers. There was an image she had to maintain as the face of her family and the daughter of Mother as well. It hardly looked immaculate when she forgot she threw herself back in alarm. Novalie ran a hand through her hair as she tried to calm herself and then looked over to Matthew. "There is something very wrong," she explained although that much was obvious from her reaction to the dreaming.


Novalie rolled her shoulders, tensing and relaxing a couple times, took a quick breath, and opened the door. Thank the heavens it was unlocked.


The little home was dimly lit by one overhead light in the kitchen and two lamps in the living quarters that doubled as both a living room and bedroom. The kitchen was cramped and old-fashioned but tidy. A wood-burning stove spread warmth throughout the tiny abode and helped to alleviate the musty smell. Dried herbs and pots hung from the ceiling and two small baskets on what little counter space there was homed a few sparse fruits and vegetables that looked like they came from her garden or a friend's. A tiny table with two chairs had a thick layer of dust covering it. Beyond the kitchen was a larger area with a bed pushed against the left wall, a television against the right, a couple of plush chairs in-between. Books were piled high on one of the chairs and a coffee table whose only purpose was apparently storage of the tomes. The farthest wall presumably had a book case but had they not visually confirmed four exterior walls before entering, they might think the far wall was books. Despite Csilla's love for literature the disarray and thin layer of grime over her library meant she hadn't touched most of them in quite some time.


The elderly Slovak lady was laying in her bed, her skin ashen and her hair composed of faded brown and grey. She spoke softly in Slovak, chasing her words with coughing and clasping her chest. Novalie navigated closer with trepidation feeling more like an intruder than a guest. Beside the bed was a small nightstand with a glass of water, a few smaller bottles, a spoon, and an empty bowl. After some hesitation Novalie responded and Matthew could catch both his and Novalie's name as she introduced them. Her words flowed in such a way he could also tell she was asking Csilla a question, but before she even answered Novalie started to shift her weight nervously. She was worried... extremely worried.


@Collidias Rex

 

[Collidias Rex]

Matthew
​

Eyes straight ... shoulders back ... arms at sides ...


If it wasn't already obvious, formality wasn't something that came easily to Matt. He wanted to get it right, but he didn't exactly get many opportunities to practice. Should he try to appear more ... soft? Gentle? Professional? How professional was too professional? Was he even a professional?


His fingers curled into fists as he took a breath in, falling free as he exhaled more slowly. He couldn't let himself get worked up over it. There were more important things to worry about.


He crossed his arms and waited as Novalie finally reached out to the door. Two knocks - the door seemed thin and shaky, each knock resounding noticeably, and then ... a scraping noise?


Novalie's eyes were on him. For a moment he stared back silently as he processed her expression. Had he done something? Did she notice something? He came up with nothing. He opted to raise two fingers in a lazy wave - just at the moment she decided to speak up.


"I was going to ask if you understood that but I doubt it was English,"

Matt shrugged. "Didn't hear much anyway." Novalie seemed to be paying more attention than he was, so he'd follow her judgement and assume someone had spoken up inside. He leaned toward the door a little, resting his ear just below the crack of the doorframe. Listening ... listening ...


... yeah, he couldn't hear shit.


"I got no-" He cut himself off as Novalie's hands landed on the door, her ear following soon after. That made sense, she'd probably be able to understand anything th-


...


Novalie was staring. Matt jerked away from the door, but her gaze stayed on one spot. Something behind him? He staggered backward and swung his head right, then left again, sweeping his gaze across the garden. The quaint little property was home to a lot of oddities, but nothing leapt out at him as attention-grabbing. What had she seen?


"Are ... you okay there?" He leaned in a little. Novalie was still staring. Matt's eyes locked on hers for a moment longer as his brain clicked and made the connection. She was one of them.


A sickly prickling touched the back of Matt's neck and he stepped away from the psion. What, was she ... a reader? An author? No - was she one of those sensors? An author? Matt suppressed a murmur of concern as he took another couple of steps away from Novalie. Could she sense him, somehow? That ... made him uneasy. What if-


Matt jumped ahead as Novalie jerked back. A nearby garden spade was promptly uprooted and appeared in Matt's hand as he stepped to Novalie's side, eyes glued to the doorway. His chest heaved, deep breaths, fingers tight around his makeshift weapon. What the hell happened?


"There is something very wrong,"


"Fan-fucking-tastic." If the reaction wasn't enough - that confirmed it. A psionic disaster just waiting to happen, most probably. Matt propped the shovel up against the doorway after taking a moment to study it, and poised himself behind Novalie as she took hold of the doorhandle. As much as the unknowns of the situation put him on edge, it was best to deal with the problem as soon as possible. God, leaving it would be the worst thing to do - at least he and Novalie were equipped to deal with this kind of situation where someone else wasn't. The right people for the wrong place.


"I've got ya back." He spoke in a conspiratory whisper and shot a brief nod at the back of Novalie's head as he tailed her through the doorway. The view opened into a corridor-like shape, a crummy light just in front and above their heads and a pair of glows nestled further back. They'd stumbled into a kitchen. Fireplace, pots and pans, eating area and baskets of whatever. Half-closing the door behind him, he peeked over Novalie's shoulder as he took in the far end of the building. Books, table, TV, a bed - and a person inside the bed. Matt made slow strides on the approach so his feet landed softly on the floor, carefully taking in the room as he passed through and shooting a glance at the doorway behind them. It was mostly shut, but he could see the handle of the shovel in the thin strip of light leading to the outside world.


He turned to face the woman, presumably Csilla, but hid himself behind Novalie as the woman spoke up. She sounded ... sick.


Or ... just old. Old people were like that, sometimes.


Looking the woman over again, she didn't look dangerous. She was old, so he wasn't expecting her to leap out of bed and attack. Maybe an agitator? Novalie had seen something dangerous through her psionic-whatever, and he had no reason to distrust her. Matt glanced around the room again, then back to the doorway behind him. Nothing seemed out of place ... which only set him more on edge.


"Hey ... this "something" which is very wrong ... is it the kind of problem that can be solved with blunt force trauma or "getting the fuck out"? Because I can handle those things." Matt's fists balled again. Something about Novalie's posture was ... off. He couldn't put his finger on it.


"Don't lose your shit ..." He slid back toward Novalie and dropped a hand on her shoulder. "... but I wanna be ready if we need to get out fast. I'm not as quick as pretty-boy, but I can get her done. Until then - I need details." He grimaced and shot Novalie another concerned glance. "What're we looking at?"






@Syrenrei

 

[Syrenrei]

Leon
​

Leon wasn't certain what he was expecting when he dashed up the stairs, but he was damn sure it wasn't a woman incinerating before his eyes. A few years ago this would have been the sort of traumatizing event that would have brought him to his knees in a shell-shocked blubbering mess, but the Leon of today wasn't. It was a disturbing situation certainly but he wasn't paralyzed in fear.


A few shrewd glances around confirmed his suspicions that there wasn't a bandit lurking around the corner with a lighter. It would have taken a special sort of heinous, sadistic fuck to light someone on fire but it wasn't as if that had never happened. The windows were closed and the curtains were drawn tightly. Besides the doorway he was currently standing in there were no other points of entry to the room. That meant the sickening smell of burning flesh that filled his nostrils was the product of a woman seized by madness. This was self-inflicted but why was absolutely beyond him. Agitators and changers manifested their powers in unusual and sometimes aggressive ways, but every psion possesses a sense of self-preservation even in those moments of discovery. No accidental burst would have resulted in such grievous, agonizing, possibly lethal wounds.


Leon's mind churned over and over the singular realization that this horror before him was what Lenka wanted. How the hell did anyone get this way? Ever? He had seen men and women in horrible conditions. The Preservers were dispatched all over the world to rescue those that needed them the most. He had seen women in countries where they had to be covered from head to toe in his presence and unable to walk the streets without escorts. He had seen children beaten within an inch of their life because their misinformed or ignorant parents believed they were possessed by an evil entity. Once he had even been part of a rescue of a child bride who had not even hit puberty. Never had any of these psions inflicted the amount of harm on themselves that he bore witness to now. More than a few were in therapy or had been in the past to work through some self-esteem issues and brainwashing, but this amount of self-hatred? This amount of self-mutilation? It was insanity.


He watched Collin jump on the human torch and roll around violently. Leon assumed he was trying to smother the flames in an attempt to save Lenka. Sophie looked appalled- rightfully so- and Leon put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. "Don't look if you don't have to," he murmured. "We need to get out of here." It was more a musing to himself than to her. "If you save her, unless she's a changer, and maybe even if she is, she's going to be in constant pain the rest of her life," he told Collin with a cold, dead monotone. His face had turned a grim grey as he struggled to put his thoughts to words. When they were spoken aloud they had even more gravity then when they had been contained in her head. "Burns like that won't just heal. The Lenka of ten minutes ago is gone." What a bleak future she'd have. Leon could imagine Lenka strung up in a hospital bed, covered in bandages except for two haunting eyes that were dead with pain. But was it right to let her die? To let her kill herself when as far as they knew she had a bright future in Psydrium awaiting her? There was no good answer.


"Madison?" he asked quietly, wanting to know her opinion. Should they really save Lenka or was it more merciful to let her burn the last ounce of life away?


@simj22

-----------
​

Collin's efforts were relatively successful- as much as they could be anyway. The girl underneath him was damaged beyond words but she was shallowly breathing as he tumbled with her in a mad frenzy. What had been soft skin was now raw, exposed red flesh and charred remains of the upper layer of skin. All of her hair was completely gone, undoubtedly the first fuel for the flames. Most of her clothes had melted away except for a plastic necklace that was a strange, dark streak across her collarbone. It was difficult to tell with all the damage she had already endured, but the odd angle of her legs indicated that they were of little use to her because of either burn damage itself or they had been broken with the rough handling from Collin. Regardless of the exact causes, the result was the same: Lenka was a limp, barely living husk of a person.


@Collinbu98

-----------
​

 
​

I can't take this anymore! was the first frenzied thought that Sophie gleamed from Lenka's mind. It had started as a shout in her mind that was chanted over and over even as Collin tackled her to the floor. I can't, I won't, I can't, I won't! I won't let them do this! The them was an incredibly vague reference and thought, but the intangible feeling was that 'them' referred to psions and somehow she held them to blame... but for what specifically and how was lost. Lenka's mind became more primal, more simple, and more angry as she deteriorated. The chant of I can't, I won't, I can't, I won't drowned out what Sophie knew had to be enormous surges of pain. Without being a psychologist it was impossible to evaluate with any certainty, but Sophie also got the feeling that Lenka was unhinged before they entered the room. A normal mind was typically felt like walking into a room and only being able to see a few feet around you or what was laying around, but not what was tucked on shelves or in desks. It felt orderly. This mental 'room' felt as it had been trashed and that if Sophie pressed further inside she'd find only chaos and lunacy beyond.


@Emiya Shin

 
​

 

[Syrenrei]

Novalie
​

"We can leave but it won't solve anything. Neither will blunt force trauma unless your problem happens to be listening to women converse in Slovak," she breathed, talking more to herself than Matthew. He wasn't as silver-tongued as other Preservers she'd worked with in the past, that was for certain, but his candor and humor was helping her to digest the words that were coming out of Csilla's mouth. For a brief moment she wished she hadn't been the translator in the situation and she could have enjoyed more ignorance as to what was transpiring.


"Csilla here has been growing poisonous plants in her garden and has informed me she's dying. I haven't asked for the details but she speaks as if she's past the point of us being able to help her. She said she knew we would be coming," Novalie repeated. She didn't look back at Matthew because she didn't want him to see her wavering through a multitude of emotions. Csilla wasn't in the best health, obviously, but she was alert enough to answer questions... except Novalie didn't know what to ask. In retrospect it was almost certainly death and despair that had been impressed on the front door. This elderly woman was full of calm conviction as to her self-declared fate. When she had wandered back and forth through the threshold she must have imparted those darker feelings on the worn wooden surface. Novalie barely suppressed a shiver from coursing through her body.


This was past the point of wishing Leon was here. She wished any of her brothers were here with their insufferable diatribes about responsibility or endless questions about her personal life.Their over-involvement in her day-to-day activities would have been a welcome diversion from looking Csilla in the eye and knowing she'd be gone tomorrow. A slight tremor took over Novalie's hand as she forced herself not to remember her mother's death and paint over the current setting with that of the past. This was a different family and different circumstance. She could and would separate herself from this tragedy, think of all the silly conversations she'd have back in Psydrium about mundane things, and take a deep breath.


Why? Perhaps Csilla wanted to die because she was old, weak, and feeble. She certainly wouldn't be the first or last of the older generation that would stubbornly refuse to allow themselves to decline over several decades. This could be a way Csilla was asserting control over her life and its course. Was she lonely? The domicile was certainly empty and Novalie didn't feel any other people's impressions on the door. It wasn't proof positive that Csilla was alone but the size and lack of male garments did suggest such an assumption would be correct.


Taking a staggered breath she steeled her voice enough to ask another question of Csilla and listen to the response before translating for Matthew.


"I asked her why she knew we would be coming and she said she saw people coming here to find the other man, she just wasn't sure who was coming." Novalie hated to just assume anyone was crazy, especially another psion, but even for a dreamer this wasn't making a whole lot of sense. What man? Was it one of the people on her list? Before she could even think over Csilla's response the old woman was laughing and gesturing for them to both come closer, but Novalie was staying firmly planted.

 

[Collidias Rex]

Matthew
​

 
​

Poisonous plants. Shit, what the hell could he know about poisonous plants? Spiders, sure - the bloody buggers were everywhere back home, and he could apply all the basics of CPR - but poisonous plants? He nodded along grimly as Novalie spoke, but was slowly tuning out.


... this wasn't what he expected to find. Maybe a confused child, an angry teenager with only bare control over their abilities, maybe an out-of-control agitator at the very worst - but this was ... somehow worse. There was a stagnant, still melancholy to it all. Trouble was always worst when it was quiet trouble.


He wanted to ask if they could do something, but his mouth barely opened before he scolded himself and shut it. Dumb fucking question, that - if there was something they could do, they'd already be doing it. How did he expect Novalie to answer a question like that? It was a stupid and pointless question.


He backed up a little, but continued watching Csilla. Matthew had handled death before, but never anything so ... slow and inevitable. The whole stage was morbid and unsettling.


"Who's this "man"?" The question came faster than he could think better of it. Another stupid question.


Great job. Matt.


His brow crinkled into an intense furrow. Man ... what man? Was there someone else nearby?


He jumped at the sudden peel of laughter, moving back a step yet again. The woman was laughing, her fingers making small, stiff gestures at her bedside. She wanted them to approach.


... fuck that. She'd predicted they were coming - was she some kind of clairvoyant? Could she predict the future? Whatever she was, he didn't want to get too close to her. The thought of her touch made his skin crawl - what did she want? Was she going to do some kind of mind-reading trick? Mind control, even? The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Maybe ... maybe he was overthinking it? Maybe she just wanted to do some simple shit, like predict his future, or ...


... huh.


"Is she a future-teller-type?" Matt touched his elbow against Novalie as he turned around. He was looking back at the door very intently. "You know, predicting the future? Maybe there's a "man" coming here soon, she might'a got confused and thought we were coming after him. Maybe she just wants to read our futures or something."

 

[Syrenrei]

Novalie
​

Novalie nearly jumped out of her skin as Matt touched his elbow against her. She had been aware of his presence and hearing his words, but at the same time she hadn't really been listening. Fortune-teller-type? It took more willpower than she expected to control a bitter laugh or some sort of outburst. The indignation was short-lived and Novalie's pride melted away as she stared at Csilla. This old lady was most likely a dreamer like she was, at the end of her days, driven by what must be either madness or despair to a tragic end of her own making, and even Novalie was scared of her. Was it because she was effectively committing suicide or because dreamers were, even to other dreamers, a little creepy and unnerving? Did Csilla really deserve that? True the laugh was haunting, but Csilla was harmless wasn't she? Could she really harm Novalie if she was bed-ridden from her own poisons?


Steeling her resolve and painting her face with composure, she turned back towards Matthew. "Dreamers are, statistically, the most common psion school. It takes quite a bit of training to predict the future with any certainty, though, I assure you. If she could do that already... she'd have more control and focus than some of my peers had after a couple years of studying." Taking a deep breath she admitted, with a slight twinge of embarrassment, "I know that we need to ask what man she's talking about but part of me isn't certain that I want to know. We came here to meet the new psions, investigate what's happening, and encourage them to go to Psydrium. That there's a man- any man- involved in this that's not part of our group worries me."


Without waiting for what was probably going to be a sarcastic response and maybe calling her 'boss' again, she turned back towards Csilla and rattled off more Slovak before taking a step forward. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she spoke and she kept clenching them and unfurling them anxiously. It didn't matter if Matthew saw at this point. It was a stupid, silly way to relieve stress and even Mother would have been unsettled at this. The fact she hadn't bolted, abandoned the group, and gone home to Psydrium and the safety of her brothers was courage enough. This little crack in the immaculate portrait Novalie must be allowed just this once.


Csilla didn't reply immediately and instead kept gesturing for Novalie (and Matthew) to move forward. Novalie did so reluctantly, her movements slightly stiff and forced. Rationally she knew the woman was no threat but it all felt so wrong that she still had half a mind to grab Matthew's hand and urge him to teleport them out of there to... well, anywhere. Anywhere besides this ominous, dusty, stale soon-to-be-coffin. Csilla grabbed Novalie's left arm at the elbow and then spoke brokenly and with great effort.


"She says she sees things in her head, so I am guessing she's a dreamer... but she says what she saw is vague. Foreigners in town and that there was another foreigner that arrived before we did. Her sight is poor so she can't tell us what he looks like but he sounds younger than her, like we are, and has a deep voice like you do. She feels that we must be here to see him but isn't completely sure why. She... also doesn't want us to leave. I can pull away from her but if you have anything you want me to ask her, we should do that now." Csilla's grip tightened on Novalie's arm. The dreamer was relatively certain that this old woman was just lonely and desperately wanted her to stay to alleviate those feelings, but she couldn't stay. Of all the things Novalie was capable of doing, watching a woman waste away in her bed and die was not one of them. It may never be one of them. It was cruel to abandon the elderly in their time of need but... someone else had to be that person. She'd tell the hotel when they got back. Hopefully Csilla wouldn't hold this weakness against her.


@Collidias Rex