☆TRACK V: I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE PT. 2

[interdimanagers]

Who: Everyone in the last part of the log.
What: Everyone has a terrible night.
When: December 7th, 2054
Where: Naomi's ocean side mansion, followed by a secret Pride laboratory.
Warnings: Violence, blood, and at least one murder. Vague gore. NPCs being unhinged in a threatening way, though it's possible to have your character avoid ended up in the ballroom if you don't want to see this mess.

☆I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE The bubble has burst. The chaos of the night’s violence has finally boiled over into something uncontrollable – blood has been spilt, screams have been heard. No matter where you are in the mansion, you know by now that something is acutely wrong. Multiple members of Pride have been hurt – possibly killed – and you may still have no idea why. Some will try to escape. Some will try to fight back. Yet, as any rebellion starts to descend, a piercing note - a melodic cry - will summon you towards the ballroom. It can be resisted, in part - but only as far as you find yourself frozen in place instead of moving forward, at least while this spell holds. It's drawing you to the source...if you follow it, maybe you can stop it. The compulsion is strong for members of both labels. The cry seems to echo long past its termination point, to be heard wherever you are. If followed, it will bring you to Naomi Rivers in the center of the ballroom, her expression creased with strain. Though you may desperately want to strike her, something intangible is holding you back. "No!" she shouts at any Virgo nearby. "It isn't done! You need to...you need to finish this!" She'll point desperately at the nearby Pride, rendered unable to flee. "Get them now!" You don't want to. "Do it!" The compulsion weighs heavily on you - for Virgo, to act, and for Pride to surrender themselves. All subtly has disappeared. This last effort is unconcealed and nearly hysterical. You feel yourself slipping beneath the soundwaves. Power rolls off of her, the energy thick in the air, like something you can taste and smell. You can't do this. "I command-" The fabric of space-time cracks like a peal of thunder. All at once, the spell shatters.

Comments

[panspermia]

[ Greg finally looks at him, jaw tight and eyes burning. ]

This isn't a game, either.

[interstellarnpcs]

No game ever is, to the play pieces.

[He inhales deeply.]

Greg Universe, as I see it you have two options. One, is that you make me your enemy. You fight. You run away. No matter what plan you think you have...anywhere, at any moment, I can put a stop to it. If you leave my care, Lesedi will take you herself.

The other...is you take what is given to you, and you find your own power in this place. And maybe, you'll have the chance to make it to the other side of the game board.

[panspermia]

[ Whatever power this place can give him, Greg's sure he doesn't want it. There's no way he can be complacent in some twisted, demented spat between those two.

Yet as he glowers at Blanche, his breath catches, and his chest goes tight. It comes in a rush, the briefest of warnings before he remembers; bloodless carnage, bodies burst into clouds and glittering shards. And him, watching, unable to help, unable to do a single thing.

He's one small, little ghost in a battlefield, insignificant in the face of the grand battle happening around him. He'd begged to see, to understand, and now he really did.

In the present, the glare has melted into a grimace. Greg doesn't take to anger well. He's far better at fear, and regret. Static is buzzing in to warn him, but it's unneeded; he already knows it's pointless.

He looks away from Blanche. ]

[interstellarnpcs]

[Blanche allows him his silence for a while. It seems that he's made his point. Yet, he can't help but wonder...]

You want that child. Don't you?

[panspermia]

[ Greg goes very still, and says nothing. Don't bring him into this, Blanche, don't even think of it. ]

[interstellarnpcs]

You could have him, with the right kinds of support. If you made it worth the while.

[Nope, he's dead serious about this.]

[panspermia]

He's not a thing to be bartered or sold.

[interstellarnpcs]

And yet...it would seem that he belongs to that mad woman.

[People not being objects is obviously not a topic that resonates with him.]

[panspermia]

[ Just like the rest of them. ]

Make it worth the while. Like Naomi did?

[interstellarnpcs]

There are things beyond self sacrifice that I find valuable. This was a special circumstance.

[Special in what way, though, he isn't as inclined to get into.]

[panspermia]

So what do you find valuable?

[ He's not quite stupid enough to make deals without specifics. ]

[interstellarnpcs]

People who do what they're told, and that will...help ensure that others do the same. I can only imagine that you will start getting ideas, after this little mess. It's important that your peers realize this is a hopeless pursuit before they force me to kill them.

[panspermia]

[Wait a second.

This is the man who brainwashed half his his friends into murder. The one who would've had the other half dead, including his son. Had Greg seriously been so blinded by the idea of protecting Steven that he thought anything this man would do would fare them any better?

Well. He's been brought into the conversation now. It's lose-lose proposition, between betraying his friends and protecting them from worse. ]

I don't make any promises.

[interstellarnpcs]

[Blanche scoffs at that. Fool.]

Once you are prepared to start making commitments...I think you will find yourself much safer in this place.

[panspermia]

No offense, sir, but I sort of doubt that.

[He stands to go.]

Good luck.

[interstellarnpcs]

To you as well.

[He says it like he finds it faintly amusing. And that's that.]