Lerith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mutedsuspicions) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2022-05-09 11:38 am
mutedsuspicions) wrote in revivalproject2022-05-09 11:38 am
There's a beautiful sadness that runs through him
WHO: Lerith & Open
WHERE: Lerith's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations stuff
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: Lerith's room has the potential to contain blood, violence, magical and physical assault/abuse, and torture. The items are labeled with warnings.
Waiting Room Post
Waiting Room Mingle
Calibrations Room
A large interior room of a mansion with white walls embellished in gold and black chains winding about. The decorations are nonexistent, save for one oversized, looming painting of a human dressed in black finery that is trimmed with red and silver. He's dark haired man with an intimidating gaze that seems to follow visitors around the room. Judging by the size of the painting, he is clearly the owner of the mansion. From this portrait come spider-webbing lines of blood that pulse down to the white floor. If touched, it’s very warm, like holding your hands almost too close to a fire. The blood flows into and through the grout lines, leading to the center of the room.
At the center of this room is a long stone altar, with both dried and fresh blood coating the stonework. There are thick metal cuffs where wrists and ankles would go, also covered in blood and burned here and there from what had to be magic. The emotion of fear is thick over this table, like a fog you can't see more than a foot in. The only thing that rests on the altar is a dagger [cw: magical assault, violence, blood], gleaming in the light and is the only thing clean on the altar.
To the altar's right, a dining room table. There's a setting only for one, with ornate dinnerware, goblet, and utensils. Instead of a lush meal however, there are only cold scraps and the goblet is empty. A woman with no face stands next to the table, a metal canister [cw: assault, abuse, burning] of what smells like coffee held in her hands. She has pointed ears to indicate her race, and wears simple clothes similar to Lerith.
To the altar's right, a caged halla paws nervously at the floor. There's no room for it to move in the cage other than laying down or standing up. It's antlers are long and twining, with a length of chain tangled within it and a key dangling out of reach. Any attempts to snag the key simply make the antlers grow longer or the halla moves its head to swing it out of reach. The cage is made of a thick metal - natives of Thedas might recognize it was Everite - and one of the few not covered in blood.
Lerith is next to it, reaching through the bars to soothe it. Lerith looks mostly the same, save that the scarf is gone and the metal collar has been replaced with a black and gold snake around his neck. The snake alternates between tightening and relaxing around the elf’s neck while giving a low hiss every now and again. The elf doesn’t look concerned about the snake collared around his throat as he looks to his guest, tensing slightly.
"…I was not expecting company."
WHERE: Lerith's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations stuff
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: Lerith's room has the potential to contain blood, violence, magical and physical assault/abuse, and torture. The items are labeled with warnings.
Waiting Room Post
Waiting Room Mingle
Calibrations Room
A large interior room of a mansion with white walls embellished in gold and black chains winding about. The decorations are nonexistent, save for one oversized, looming painting of a human dressed in black finery that is trimmed with red and silver. He's dark haired man with an intimidating gaze that seems to follow visitors around the room. Judging by the size of the painting, he is clearly the owner of the mansion. From this portrait come spider-webbing lines of blood that pulse down to the white floor. If touched, it’s very warm, like holding your hands almost too close to a fire. The blood flows into and through the grout lines, leading to the center of the room.
At the center of this room is a long stone altar, with both dried and fresh blood coating the stonework. There are thick metal cuffs where wrists and ankles would go, also covered in blood and burned here and there from what had to be magic. The emotion of fear is thick over this table, like a fog you can't see more than a foot in. The only thing that rests on the altar is a dagger [cw: magical assault, violence, blood], gleaming in the light and is the only thing clean on the altar.
To the altar's right, a dining room table. There's a setting only for one, with ornate dinnerware, goblet, and utensils. Instead of a lush meal however, there are only cold scraps and the goblet is empty. A woman with no face stands next to the table, a metal canister [cw: assault, abuse, burning] of what smells like coffee held in her hands. She has pointed ears to indicate her race, and wears simple clothes similar to Lerith.
To the altar's right, a caged halla paws nervously at the floor. There's no room for it to move in the cage other than laying down or standing up. It's antlers are long and twining, with a length of chain tangled within it and a key dangling out of reach. Any attempts to snag the key simply make the antlers grow longer or the halla moves its head to swing it out of reach. The cage is made of a thick metal - natives of Thedas might recognize it was Everite - and one of the few not covered in blood.
Lerith is next to it, reaching through the bars to soothe it. Lerith looks mostly the same, save that the scarf is gone and the metal collar has been replaced with a black and gold snake around his neck. The snake alternates between tightening and relaxing around the elf’s neck while giving a low hiss every now and again. The elf doesn’t look concerned about the snake collared around his throat as he looks to his guest, tensing slightly.
"…I was not expecting company."
no subject
The helmeted woman almost jumps at the voice, turning sharply to the rest of the room and whoever had spoken. It's a lot to take in, but Celty focuses upon the two figures there, cautiously stepping towards the altar, which makes her halt before she looks towards the elf by the cage. An elf she knows.
no subject
"...Can you speak while in my... ro-om?"
Lerith knew he couldn't speak in others' but maybe she had a different way to do so? Maybe her communicator hadn't gone missing like his had. Maybe he just left it in his hotel room.
no subject
Can she? Celty pauses, but she sees no reason why she should be able to speak, in one room or another. She shakes her head, patting at her bodysuit, surprised but not disappointed at all to find the Blackberry-like phone Shinra had given her back home. Her fingers work rapidly on the tiny keys before she holds up the screen.
no subject
"You are surprised I can speak? I used to, before my punishment." He looks to the altar that stands prominently in the middle of the room. "In my mind I can speak everything I want to say but I can-not in the outside world."
no subject
This place...it doesn't look very friendly. And why is this one caged?]
She brings a hand up towards the cage, just between the bars but still outside of them. Living in Ikebukurou she's had very little experience with animals. Shooter's her oldest companion.
no subject
"-wait. Let me ask." Which probably sounded strange to an outsider. But he turns to address the beast, asking for the permission to touch her. The permission is granted it seems, as she tosses her head in a clear up and down motion. "Do not pet her head or above, but she al...lows it. The hal-la are not pets to the Elves. They are brothers and sisters to us." A distant look to those yellow eyes, as though reciting something lurking that he couldn't reach for himself.
no subject
Beautiful... the Dullahan thinks, stroking the halla's neck in what she hopes a way that offers comfort. Once she withdraws her hand, she's back to typing.
no subject
Lerith, the snake still coiled about his neck, takes Celty's hand to lead her towards it, but it's obvious he's making sure there's distance. "This is a go...go-od memory."
The man from the portrait comes into view, atop a majestic chestnut colored horse. Lerith is seen trailing next to him on foot. The elf looks so much worse than he had when he had arrived in Tembra months ago. Far more hollow. The man starts conversing with some soldier wearing a faced helmet with fluffy red feathers crowning it.
Then, chaos.
Soldiers wearing similar garb, but with blue instead of red, storm the encampment. The red feathers go immediately on the defensive, but the magister's horse gets spooked. The man is thrown back to the ground as the beast rears up high, hooves threatening any that would go to its front before Lerith realizes that this is his chance.
His only chance.
Grabbing the reigns and swinging up - so easy with how thin he was - Lerith dug his heels in and held on tight as the horse bolted from the commotion of the camp. He could hear the magister's screams on the wind behind him, smell the burning ozone as the electric magic missed him. All he could see was the widening open view of the plains before him. The three halla from the bank fled with him, seemingly guarding and leading the horse away from danger. One with striking similarities to the one from the mind space, led the horse northeast.
The ground moved beneath his and Celty's feet without them having to follow in pursuit. "She led me to safety," he remarked as the memory faded to darkness and relit to the villa room. "She lead me in the direction of Haven where I was given safety from my owner."
[Reference image for the setting: Exalted Plains]
no subject
Celty looks over at Lerith as he takes her hand and leads her off, and as she sees the man from the portrait and the elf himself, it becomes all the more clearer what his situation had been. An ambush, she thinks, watching as the small campsite is beset by an opposing group. Her hand tightens slightly around Lerith's as she sees what happens next, eager to see that he manages his escape, tension seeping from her shoulders and grasp once she sees him safely off, and with help. You weren't alone.
She's only slightly disappointed as the memory lapses and they're back within the enclosed, if large space.
Celty looks back at the halla, her helmeted head tipping in something of a bow.
no subject
Lerith reaches in to stroke over her back gently. "I do wish I could have helped others from my vil-la. Some houses are not ter… awful to serve in." It's clear from the state of Lerith from the memory and the mental room what kind of owner that man was. The elf looks to the faceless she-elf standing by the table motionless. He had seen so many other elves tortured, even killed, it was a wonder sometimes that he got away.
Finally Lerith looked back to Celty. "I am glad I was at least able to share a memory of mine with you. And that it is a nice one."
no subject
Celty looks back at Lerith, head tilting a little before she nods. It had been unexpected, but out of the possibilities, she supposes she's thankful it had been a pleasant memory to be experienced.
no subject
There's a long pause as he stares at the faceless woman at the table. He knew her name, remembered with such distinction what that memory was. Lerith finally blinks and looks down between himself and Celty. "I was ten when I was brought to the market and sold. I didn not escape until I was twenty-seven."
It was a wonder how he survived for so long under such torture, if the way the room looked was anything to go by. "Do not apologize. Friends are not an intrusion, they are welcomed to help me get through another day."
no subject
Lerith hadn't given up. That was an admirable trait, and Celty was glad that he was rewarded with his freedom for all he endured. She gave him a nod. Little enough she could do.
no subject
"I do wish...that I could have saved the others." And sometimes it wasn't clear if he hadn't lost hope in escaping, or if he had just been too stubborn for those seventeen years to just die as just another elf slave. "If I have the power, maybe I can one day."
Lerith took Celty's hand and led her towards the portrait. He stood up straight, using his contact with her as strength. The painting's hook gave behind it, letting it fall to the ground to smash like porcelain. Behind it was hidden a door: wooden and humble. Just the right height for Lerith to pass through. The painting pieces crunched under his shoes.
"This should lead back to the awaking world, Mis-s Celty."
no subject
As they approached the portrait, Celty gives his hand a squeeze. She wasn't sure what to expect next, but the painting dropping had not been it. Somehow she manages not to jump, even as it crashes into pieces at their feet. She looks to the door that's been revealed, and then at Lerith before giving him a nod.