childrenofbahamutlogs | EVENT #2: BRAIN BOGGLING

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EVENT #2: BRAIN BOGGLING

A CRASH IN THE NIGHT

In the dark hours of a snowy early morning, a sudden BOOM can be heard all across Town. It is swiftly followed by sounds of warping metal and then a screeching crash. Curious, albeit groggy, residents emerge only to find a smoking wreck just a mile outside of Town.

The strange craft appears to be almost nautiloid in shape with wrenched, broken tendrils streaming out the opening.

Much of it is metal although some of it almost seems... organic.

Those who with to get a closer look will be met by Charlie and Dimitri who are already on the job. They request curious onlookers keep their distance since this craft is, without a doubt, tremendously dangerous.

Later in the day, there appears to be an outfit of officials coming from the west to investigate and clean up the wreckage. Thankfully(?), you will all find out soon enough what's going on.

INVESTIGATION & PROTECTION

Deathcard Cabin by Jonah Senzel

4:07 / 13:06

▶︎

Click here to listen.

From the Inscryption OST: A unique and haunting sound paired with a unique and haunting game.

code

Charlie reports to the citizens of Town that an Illithid cargo transport. The pilot did not survive the crash, but they appeared to be transporting some kind of new breed of Intellect Devourers.

"We do not yet know what this new breed is capable of, but..."

Charlie does give everyone a rundown of what an Illithid and what an Intellect Devourer is, what they are capable of, and a keen warning to tread lightly. Many dead ones were discovered in the cargo but several of the enclosures were damaged in the crash and the likelihood of escapees is high.

Charlie reiterates: These creatures are to be killed on sight, or contained until someone can kill it. If you are not confident in your combat abilities, please remain in your homes as much as possible and seal all openings to your dwelling. Those who are capable though are urged to begin patrols of Town alongside Slayd, Dimitri and himself to ensure that Town and the surrounding areas are safe.

Please travel in pairs or groups, do not be alone! Attack from a distance when possible. Hoshiko will offer her assistance as a markswoman as well by picking off any Intellect Devourers from a distance that she can for those that are forced to travel alone. (Don't worry about any jokes she makes of her service not being cheap though. Charlie wouldn't actually let her charge you anything.)

Unfortunately, not even they can predict the blizzard that rolls through Town in the midst of all this. If you happen to see anything skittering through the snow, don't panic too much. It could just be a tiny woodland creature looking for a warm burrow to hide away in!

At least you hope it is.

PROMPT #3

Hybrid intellect devourers are unique from the regular ones in that the goal is not to kill their target, but to gather intelligence and act as a kind of spy network.

They will flee when confronted directly by greater numbers, but will attack a lone target. They do this by jumping at the target's head and wrapping a wet tendril around their neck. They will choke who they've wrapped around if anyone tries to remove it. They are also far more likely to try and attack sleeping target (hence the advice to keep your homes closed!).

These hybrids emit spores that will keep the target asleep during feeding. Their primary goal appears to be infiltrating the targets' minds and absorbing some of their memories. The target will have their mind left mostly intact... though they may suffer short term memory loss, confusion, distress, fatigue and head pain.

Here's where the fun starts!

Once one of these critters has fed on someone, they are onto their next target. When a fed Intellect Devourer feeds from another target, that target may absorb some of the previous target's memories. This can span across multiple victims and be erratic in whose memories taint whose mind. The memories will cross-pollinate in the form of dreams or waking visions and hallucinations.

If one of these creatures is killed, it will explode, releasing a powerful psionic wave and the memories it had absorbed from any recent targets. Anyone within ten (10) yards of the dying creature will be afflicted with extreme head pain in the short term and also witness the memories of it's previous victims.

Enjoy your muddled memories and leggy brain-hunting!

The outfit of people who have come to investigate are from New Svihelen's disaster containment squad and are investigating the hybrid creatures and the possible reason for an Illithid ship to crash here of all places. Right now, the running theory is that interference from the selfsame summoning circle that brought you all here could have caused the interplanar navigation systems of the ship to malfunction but nothing has been determined yet.

Eventually, these creatures will all be rounded up and taken care of. They are persistent and stealthy though in their efforts to survive above all else. Charlie assures that they're doing all they can to make Town safe once and for all but it will take some time.

Notes

⁂ The partner plotting post for this event/quarter is also up!

⁂ Additionally, we have a state of the game post available for people to read about updates, clarifications, and housekeeping items!

⁂ If you have any further questions or feedback about this event specifically, please comment here!

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Alright, how about this one? I have cities but no people, forests but no trees, and rivers but no fish. What am I?

"Not as familiar as the ones in Faerghus, no," he mentions. "The snow and some creatures are actually quite reminiscent of my homeland, but the distinct lack of wolverines has been appreciated." They're not the worst, but they are... sometimes a lot to deal with. Especially when you're thrust into the wilderness and not much else but the instruction to 'survive' as a training exercise.

"I'll be happy to take a look though." At the request, he's moving in closer to crouch down and get a better look at the shaking creature. It's docile, as rabbits can be and especially when likely paralyzed in fear, but does give him a warning kick and huff as he tries to get a better look at those fuzzy limbs.

A platypunk is a very odd little monster! They have bird-like beaks and talons, but fur instead of feathers and definitely can't fly!

A treeface is a tree with a face and arms, if you were also wondering about that one.

[ Some monsters have more creative names than others. ]

[ If Dimitri's looking to improve his sense of humor, he's talking to the wrong person. ]

Do you know the way to tell how a tree is a dogwood? It's by its bark!

[ You might even say he's barking up the wrong tree. ]

"Mm-hm. They don't resemble anything I know of in my world, either."

The "I know of" is important. For all he knows, some dungeon lord somewhere had a labyrinth absolutely packed with legged brains.

His gaze shifts to Fray, flat as ever. "I wasn't, until recently. Poor visibility will do that."

He's gathered the man(?) has some kind of problem with him, but he still isn't sure what it is... or whether Fray just has a problem with everyone, by default. That seems possible.

At least, no matter the case, Mithrun himself isn't too bothered. "If it's of such concern, I can work with you two until we find someone."

Or he loses track of them, too. One of those.

"I will not fall asleep." That much, he can guarantee! Passing out from low mana is a different thing - but, even then, he hasn't been at this for too long just yet.

For now, once Popp agrees to the plan, Mithrun vanishes, leaving a small array of displaced, broken branches in his wake.

Some distance away and overhead, there's a faint rustling as he settles on a limb, like some kind of fucked up bird.

One blink and he's gone like a professional thief! Where did he even go?!

"Huh! Didn't wait long to ditch me, the jerk! Who needs him?!"

This is both legitimate acting in case they are being watched from the shadows, and a genuine gripe because Popp is rather sensitive about being left behind. He skulks and crunches his way through the forest, muttering about how he's a powerful mage who doesn't need backup.

...Mithrun wouldn't ditch him for real, right?

The ringing in his hears and pounding of his head are only cut through by the pain of a memory that is, in fact, his. Ah, yes- He remembers this. Quite vividly, even. Just like Mithrun is suddenly thrust into this memory, so is Ardyn thrust from finally having his revenge by killing Regis to instead an unproductive audience with Bahamut.

He is told that this isn't the path laid out for him. Rather, his 'fate' is to be the world's sacrificial lamb to end the blight of The Scourge upon the star once and for all. Fuck that, says Ardyn. Not quite so literally crass to Bahamut himself but- Close enough.

"Thine impudence shall prove thine undoing, foolish mortal."
"Oh, I'm no 'mortal.' I'm a monster."

Inky, viscous fluid leaks from his now black sclera, mouth, and even some of his pores. It oozes out of him as he grits his teeth and growls to fight against this 'fate' decided for him. For his disobedience, he's held prisoned in a circle of blades while a beautiful blonde woman dressed in white approaches to pierce him through his heart with a trident mercilessly. (If Mithrun notices any similarities to her and someone else he knows from another world, no he doesn't.) He begs her to end his curse, but all she does is stab him again.

"Pierce my heart if you must, but you will never kill my resolve."

Only a fool would defy such opposition, Bahamut says through her. Well, then? He must be a fool, through and through.

Byleth's head swivels, the long snout ending in a soft, rounded nose pointing directly down at Lahabrea as he speaks.

"Not yet. I suspect our quarry may be burrowing under the snow to avoid being sighted." An ear twitches. "I've been trying to listen for them, but the wind is making it hard."

He moves to the tree trunk and digs his claws in, using them to slide down. Gods he hates the snow. Looking up at Lahabrea now, he tilts his head.

"What of you? Anything to speak of?"

For a moment, Byleth doesn't move. His breathing is steady at least. When Dimitri says his name though, he finally stirs.

"Mmm... Dimitri..." He scrunches his face against the blaring headache. His vision is blurry at best, and all he can do is squint. He'd know the scent of the man anywhere though. Distinct and slightly woody. A pleasant memory.

He can see a fuzzy shape moving behind him though, and he grabs the man's arm, his other hand pointing at the incoming beast.

"Incoming--!" He manages. A command that Dimitri should be familiar with from their training in the monastery. An incoming enemy. Hopefully the warning is enough.

"Very well." If Mithrun says he has it, he has it. The man is more than capable, Byleth knows. Stubborn, too. Pressing the matter won't get him anywhere. So he flaps his wings a few times to get clear of the snow and haul himself back up the tree.

Finding a decent crook to rest in, he waits for the other man to follow. His tail remains curled around a branch for stability, enough so he can tuck his feet under him and warm those damned cold toes.

True to his word, Mithrun stays close by, watching Popp from above - though Popp couldn't be blamed for not being sure of that. Mithrun may still be getting used to some of the changes to his body, but they do prove useful for getting from branch to branch, teleportation taking him across larger gaps.

He can't be totally silent, but, with luck, the sound of Mithrun's movement will blend in with those of every other living thing rustling in the trees and crunching through the snow. With caution, the distance he's keeping from Popp will be enough that no lurking brains will tie the two together.

And, in fact-- they don't seem to. Within a few minutes, snow crunches behind Popp - a faint warning of an ID's approach as it creeps toward its seemingly unguarded target.

""There was this guy, he..."

On the surface it doesn't even sound that bad when he tries to find the words to describe it! She got grabbed and chewed out for not focusing on her job, which is a painfully familiar experience.

"...You were so happy about your music, but he was so mad about it."

He waits for Byleth to get settled back in the tree, first; best to make sure he's stationary, before trying to teleport anywhere near him.

Once it seems unlikely that there will be a Horrible Accident, though, Mithrun crouches in place and casts. He reappears a couple inches above a spot near Byleth's, dropping into place to hold on with clawed hands and feet. As much trouble as he may have with the changes to his body, he has to admit: Some are pretty useful.

He looks to Byleth again, settling into place, immediately all business. If he feels the cold at all, he doesn't seem to show it - which, granted, is pretty par for the course. "How many have you seen?"

Being asleep in bed is one thing, and actively expecting something to jump at him with greebly little tentacles is another. Popp is grumbling at relatively low volume on purpose, and does possess an attention span. Maybe it's a rabbit? No, a rabbit wouldn't be following him, would it? He whips around-

"Aha!"

And then runs for it as fast as he can. He's a team player, killing it was Mithrun's job, and he does remember that they tend to explode.

At first Emet-Selch wonders if he has somehow slipped back within the Rift. Memories flood his mind: brief snatches of skylines and architecture he's never seen before, the blur of strangers' faces, the distant shouts of battle. It's a relief when the deluge begins to slow to a trickle, when the cacophony is replaced with the sound of wings strumming against the currents of a beautiful cloudless day. His mood, too, begins to lift - but these emotions aren't his. They belong to another, to an identity he cannot quite guess at. At least, not until the helical arches that mark the entryway to his favorite park at last come into view, one unassuming but tucked away conveniently close to the Capitol. And then an all-too familiar face, though one which he has never quite witnessed in this way before...

For it is himself, Hades, who greets them, and there is a name which follows the dutiful and wholly predictable reprimand over his guest's frustrating lack of punctuality.

Byleth.

In answer to that scolding, he can feel the warmth within his breast swell fondly.

* * *
Surely this can be nothing but a fever dream? After all, there is simply no way that he and they could stroll through these gardens together, hand-in-hand, with seemingly no care in the world and no concept of time.

Yet there is something about it all which isn't quite as strange as it should be, and he recalls a conversation, not too long past:

'To give it brutal simplicity - we were in love. Those versions of us were. I am trying to parse his feelings from my own, but it is proving difficult as I experienced those memories as if I had lived them myself.'

Back then, he had vehemently denied Byleth's claim, yet there is no denying the way that Hades slows his stride so that they can easily keep up with him, nor the comforting presence of his hand over theirs.

* * *
This scene does not go on forever, however. There are others.

He feels the care as Byleth leads Dimitri back to the monastery, offering his presence where he cannot provide immediate answers so that this would-be king will not suffer alone.

He feels the desperation and unshakeable stubbornness as Byleth uses Divine Pulse to rewind time over and over and over, heedless of the exhaustion building within his limbs and mind. There is no other option. For his students, for those he cares for, he would do this over a million times until the desired outcome comes to pass.

He feels... the loneliness. The fear. The gratitude. It's all so personal, things which are surely meant to remain private, things he never knew to ask the man about himself and certainly would not know how precisely to broach now. It's ironic, in a way. A fickle stroke of karma. Is this how Byleth felt when he absorbed the memories of the other Byleth, from back within the Amani Simulation? When he became privy to information that had not been granted him willingly?

* * *
Emet-Selch wouldn't go so far as to call it a novelty to witness such an intimate act in this way, but the experience is now his. He watches the flutter of Hades's eyelids, heavy with desire yet refusing to slide entirely closed. It isn't from a lack of trust, he knows. Hades watches him because he wants to see his reaction, wants to see every flicker and flash of pleasure and affection as Byleth makes love to him. He needn't...feel the twitch of the cock buried deep inside him nor the way Hades moves in time with the rocking of Byleth's hips to know that the man is utterly smitten, that he is relishing every moment; that they have done this before.

Byleth seems to know what he likes already, isn't the least bit timid when it comes to handling him, either, nor to demand that Hades take his own pleasure even though he has already reached his conclusion. He watches himself let go, a sloppy, spent mess beneath them, his face flushed in euphoria, a low, inelegant moan escaping him as those words of praise tickle his ears.

By Creation, how long has it been since someone last spoke to him in that way, since he even allowed someone so close, since he freely indulged in the needs of the flesh and the yearnings of his broken heart? As unlikely and impossible as it all seems... he is, perhaps, beginning to understand how these two people might have found each other. Why this Hades may have delayed his final rest.

* * *
It's all really too much to wrap his head around properly, however, especially now when it feels as if it's about the split in twain, the sharp stabbing sensation burrowing further and further into his mind, until even these lofty visions begin to run together like wet paint.

Hades doesn't know where he is, nor how long it's been, nor whether it's even been any time at all. A distressed growl escapes him, an echoing rumble as the effects of having his brain tampered with begin to breach even his high tolerance for pain. A single wet trail mars the obsidian scales of his cheek as he tries and fails to stir, the sliver of his eye little more than a vacant golden stare.

A voice rings in his head before he goes under again:

'In the face of learning that I was doomed to immortality, and my fear of losing those around me to time while the centuries wore on, you vowed to stay with me until I was satisfied, and then to grant me a gentle repose alongside you. You knew the dreadful reality of time and loneliness, and you showed me the greatest compassion.'

Who said those words? Why would be know anything at all about something so dreadful? Try as he might, he is never alone for long! Always with the teasing and inconveniences, always someone or something to deny him a few peaceful moments to himself.

Yes? ...No?
He can no longer remember at present.

Edited 2025-02-28 05:00 (UTC)

If nothing is happening, then that gives him time to consider all of the things that could happen.

"Exciting's one word for it! I've come face to face with Dark Commander Hadlar himself three times this year, and it's hard to believe I lived through any of them! I'm stronger every time I see him, but he's stronger every time I see him! How's anyone supposed to beat someone who can recover from wounds so fast you can see the flesh growing back?!"

Contemplating Hadlar is not any better for his nerves, but at least it feels good to get it off his chest and yell about it instead of fretting. Dimitri's a warrior, he's probably had tough fights he can sympathize over.

Considering he's pretty sure he looks like he feels, it's hardly a surprise that Themis can see through him so easily. Well, there's no arguing from him on that front. Especially if it means getting out of the cold, and putting a little less of himself on edge.

"Upstairs might not be a bad idea," he admits. "We could all probably use a bit of privacy." For numerous reason. Like how being stuck in one place can make people go feral for some space. Or how shared memories is always a little bit... too much. And for him? Well, for him, he's just going to be revealing a little bit too much of a sore spot.

"Just so long as there's room. Don't want to take anything from no one."

If they're friends or something a little messier in terms of definitions, well, it's hard to say. Angeal isn't the type of person to turn away anyone he cares about, especially in miserable weather and circumstances like this one. So he lets Byleth huddle close, and something nearly like steam filters out from his mouth.

"Yeah, although not too much for the escaped problems." He nods over to the nearest building. "I figured I would look over some of town to make sure there there's no obvious holes in anybody's houses or the like. Make it harder for them to worm their way in. It's not exactly a neat and easy job, especially with the snow piling up everywhere, and places I won't shove my nose into without a little permission... but it's something to keep an eye on, I figure. At least I can spot the big problem damages."

The Mystic? While it sounds like his brother's brand of arrogance to title himself thus, Ardyn hasn't heard that moniker before. It seems whoever he's given that name to though he's also not given a great opinion of Ardyn, which- Small surprise there too. It hurts. It always did, always will even if he expects it more than he doesn't.

"I am helping," he counters, convicted. "Just because he doesn't agree with my method of doing so doesn't mean it isn't true."

They're having two entirely different conversations, unfortunately, but Ardyn's still stuck in the past with only snippets of his future and as they relate to Town.

It can be extraordinarily messy. While the Ardyn of current day relishes it, this man of the past seems less inclined to appreciate such a thing. He loves Somnus even for as bullheaded as he can be; they might not agree on how to handle matters, no, but they're still brothers in the end. They're still family. He likes to hope that means something to him, even as he worries more and more it might not.

"No one here needs my healing yet," he says, to that. "Not that I can tell. That might change with those... creatures on the loose, but for now I'm happy to help how I can."

"To a certain degree," he admits. He knows their presence isn't, of course, but 'mind flayers' don't appear to be unknown to this world. It's just that the crashing of one of their ships is, which- He has his theories on why that might be already and it does have to do with them being here when they're not supposed to be.

"The ship, you mean? It does look more organic, doesn't it? But I wonder if it's more an extension of the pilot, in that case, rather than alive in its own right." So, the pilot is probably dead if anyone.

"You're welcome," Ardyn answers, being insufferably him through and through. Nevermind that he doesn't actually know what it means to be him most days anymore. Being who Gladio thinks he is tends to be easier anyway than any kind of vulnerability that might accompany being actually seen.

He's not too happy about his mind being forcibly cracked open and memories of his spilling out, but- He also can't change what happened now, can he? It also is giving him some interesting insight into Gladiolus himself, who... Well, put simply, Ardyn still isn't used to seeing many of Noctis' entourage as people in their own rights. They were moreso obstacles for him to overcome in getting to his true goal. He knows Gladio is a person, but it makes it easier sometimes to not perceive him as such.

"I had heard rumblings of your absence and something to do with Cor, but it didn't seem especially relevant so- No, actually, I didn't realize. I can believe he's stubborn enough down to his soul though to be still around." Despite everything, so many fragments of Ardyn's past remained stuck in their star like splinters under his skin. "That's why him and my brother got along so well, I'm sure."

And if that piece of things - that the Founder King was family - wasn't something Gladio gleaned from the memories, Ardyn perhaps just gave away more than he meant to by assuming.

Unsurprisingly, the Devourer takes off at a run after its fleeing prey - no need to try to sneak up when it's already been spotted.

Then there's a faint crack overhead, and the pop of displaced matter, and the Intellect Devourer keels over, tumbling with its own momentum, its brainy body skewered by a tree branch.

...And then it rather definitively validates Popp's decision to run for it when its body hisses, convulses, and explodes in a blast of psychic energy.

Incredibly gross, but it could be worse. Could be the displaced matter of Popp. With the power of all four wings and a burst of pure magic, Popp dives out of explosion range successfully. Into a snowbank, sure, but this kind of thing does not phase him much these days.

"All right, we got it!"

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Page 9 of 27

EVENT #2: BRAIN BOGGLING

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( ardyn dlc/ffxv spoilers )

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nsfw;

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