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venetianprinceFeliciano makes it back to liminal- but he is tired, and quiet, and contemplative. Those who manage to see him beforehand will see him subdued, dazed, distracted.
Soon enough, he vanishes- and in its place is an ornate crystalline door.
It is unlocked, and cool to the touch.
You find yourself in a meadow, in the form of a mundane human- although you also have the vague impression that you could return to your true form (if you have one) if you wished. However, you find that liminal skills are nullified here. Many other of your skills may have been suppressed, if they are supernatural in nature.
The grassy meadow is filled with colorful wildflowers and soft, tall green grasses, and seems to extend into eternity. The sky is a clear blue, with passing clouds overhead- perfect for cloud-gazing.
Not that now is the time.
The meadow seems to be empty, aside from a number of strange doors placed about the grass at random intervals. They seem to stand alone, but presumably, if one were to open them, they would lead elsewhere.
And, for those who are more attentive- they may notice a little girl in a green dress hiding and peeking out at the group from behind the doors.
(Any attempts to chase her will have her flee into one of the doors.)
Also of note, is a wide stream that starts in a pond in the meadow’s center. The pond is close to where you find yourself upon entering, and its waters are still and glassy, a perfect mirror. Or at least, it seems so from the surface.
But though the meadow is otherwise empty, there are voices.
The voices are discernible, but distant, faint. It sounds as if they are muffled by many different layers of barriers, far beyond the doors lying in wait in the meadow. Despite there being nothing but meadow and sky all around, the sounds seem to come from somewhere beyond the sky, the ground, the doors.
Everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Let me have this!" screams Feliciano's voice.
"YOU CANNOT," replies a voice that sounds much like Feliciano's- but it is powerful, it resonates, it's layered with the voices of millions. "YOU KNOW THIS."
"But here, there is nothing to bind me! But here-"
"HERE YOU WILL WITHER. HERE YOU WILL BECOME NOTHING BUT A HUSK. HERE YOU WILL FORGET YOUR TRUE SELF."
"But this isn't my true self! You're not- you're NOT! I don't have to be like this! I don't have to be you!"
"YOU MUST."
"I can be human!"
"YOU
CAN
NOT."
There is a sound, crashing and roaring, unlike machine or beast.
It is the sea.
And silence follows.
⇒ Proceed
>Roman Arch
>Polished Mahogany Double Doors
>Rustic Wooden Door
>Heavy Clothed Doorway
>Scorched Oak Door
>Pond
>Something else?
Matrix Hub 1 | The Roman Arch
The arch vanishes from behind you.
There is a tiny child, barely a year old, small and hiccuping, whimpering quietly as he sits alone among the reeds. The baby only seems to calm when the tide laps at his tiny feet.
There are the sounds of voices in the distance: a deep, lively voice, along with that of a small boy- perhaps around five years old, or just barely past that. They speak in Latin, but their words become intelligible to any within earshot.
“Hm? Are you certain, Livianus? You seem quite set on this.”
“Here. Brother.”
“Hm? A brother?” The man’s brow furrows.
The voices approach, and over one of the grassy hills, appears a strong, sturdily built man, appearing to be in his mid-to-late thirties. This man is dressed in a fine Roman toga with purple embellishments, the mark of nobility and high rank, while the boy is dressed in similar attire, although his tunic is shorter than that of the man trailing along behind him. The older man has a mess of brown curls on his head, a scruffy beard, and bright amber eyes- the child seems to resemble him in some ways, the only difference being that the child’s eyes are hazel.
The boy seems quite focused and driven, with a slightly frustrated look on his face, marching along the best he can through the tall grasses. “Frater,” the boy insists again, pointing into the reeds. He seems curt and testy, giving the older man a look that clearly implies he thinks the grown-up is a moron.
The older man comes along, looking confused, and his eyes widen in surprise upon seeing the red-haired, golden-eyed baby sitting at the water’s edge. The baby giggles and babbles at them both soon enough, holding up its arms to be held, and the older man goes pale, frozen in shock.
He looks as if he’s seen a ghost.
While the older man stares for several stunned moments, the boy rolls his eyes and goes to pick up the child himself, with a surprising amount of strength for a boy his age, carrying his new find over to the older man.
“Frater,” Livianus repeats, his meaning this time quite clear.
This is my brother.
Livianus offers the baby up to the other man, who finally snaps out of it and picks up the child, holding him close.
“Hello there. I’m the Imperium Romanum. Everyone calls me Romulus. I’ll be your from now on,” the older man says to the little child, who beams at him and giggles, happily reaching out to grab at his nose. Rome, as he is now revealed to be, laughs and shakes his head. “A happy child, aren’t you… you’re too young to know.”
“ ,” Romulus says next, quietly to the child. “ ,” he says next, a somberness to his voice.
In those moments, something is wrong. His lips move in places but no words ring, and the scene seems to flicker, losing color and light until the scene freezes altogether, monochrome and silent and still, the words that should have been there now missing from the record.
You think you could examine the frozen scene and persons, if you so wished. Maybe there is a way to reanimate one of them.
In the distance, there are hills. Seven hills. There is a faint glimmer of color from their direction, on the horizon.
In another direction, there is an ancient city. There is another faint glimmer of color from its direction.
At another, farther, distance, there seems to be a storm, masses of men in the midst of battle.
Along with the nearby shore, there is also a river closeby.
⇒ Proceed
>Remain?
>To the hills?
>To the city?
>To the battlefield?
>Something else?
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Matrix Hub 2 | The Mahogany Doors
(The doors you just passed through vanish once they click shut.)
The interior of the room, however, is still somehow austere, too tidy, too clean, everything perfectly in its place and never meant to be touched.
This is a noble’s home, that much is clear. Most of the books, if examined, are written in German.
There is a young girl here. She is perhaps thirteen or fourteen, and she is busy washing the floors, on her knees and scrubbing at some stubborn dirt spots. She wears a green maid’s dress, simple and austere, a bandanna keeping her short hair back. She seems petite even for her age, but maybe that’s just because something has been stifling her growth.
She pauses and squeaks to see you, quickly scrambling to her feet and giving a curtsy. “A-Ah…!” She speaks in accented but fluent German, but somehow you understand the words: Welcome, guests. Sir Roderich is further in. She’s fidgety, but is regarding you curiously- after a few moments, she goes back to cleaning, but continues to glance at you.
There are more glassy doors that lead out- but oddly, the glass in them seems to show a different view than all the windows. Instead of gardens, the doors appear to lead out to what some will recognize as old Venetian streets, canals and all.
There is another set of double doors, but these are in a distinctly French rococo style. The sounds of whispering come from beyond them.
Yet another, single glass door, seems to lead out into a familiar meadow…
The only other door in this room has sound coming from it- the sounds of piano and violin music float in from beyond the door. Occasionally, there is the sound of a flute or harp.
⇒ Proceed
>Glass Doors
>Rococo Doors
>Musical Door
>Meadow
>Linger?
Matrix Hub 3 | The Scorched Oak Door
The weapons and soldiers are a motley mix from all throughout history, but all of them fight, and none of them will cease for you.
You are in danger here.
Through the chaos, there glimpse a few possible routes to traverse. There seems to be a lone, quiet farmhouse to another distance, beyond the chaos of this battleground.
There are mahogany doors that stand alone at yet another distance, and they may seem familiar to you, although now they seem scorched. They lie past the battlefield as well.
In another direction beyond the battlefield, there seems to be a peaceful field, quiet and still. Something glimmers there.
Will you make it to safety?
⇒ Proceed
>Quiet field
>Farmhouse
>Scorched Mahogany Doors
>Linger? (In an active battlefield?)
Matrix Hub 4 | Heavy Cloth Doorway
Nurses are urging, in hushed tones, “Wounded to the back. There’s blood there to heal them.”
“Be sparing,” a doctor urges. “He can only give us so much.”
“Push him,” says another. “He will live. It’s more important that he save their lives.”
“We shouldn’t,” murmurs a nurse. “If he is too weakened, then what will become of us all?”
The tent has a few other flaps to leave through, although peeking through them will show you differing scenes. The tent has four walls- one flap along each, including the one you just came through. To your left, to your right, in the back, and behind you.
Despite the bustle of the tent, this seems to be more or less a secure area. You can hear the sound of blasts and artillery fire- but they are distant.
⇒ Proceed
>Left Exit: You see a battlefield, and a nearby small village with the streets running red.
>Right Exit: You see what appears to be a holding room or jail. It's empty, except for one cell...
>The Back Wall: You see a very tired redhead lying on a cot, with blood being drawn from a vein.
Matrix Hub 5 | Rustic Wooden Door
People are milling about, going about their days- modern day attire, modern day amenities around the shops.
The smells of baked goods waft over to you from a nearby bakery, bustling.
There is also what appears to be a rooftop cafe nearby- the steps are easy to see, and people are resting and chatting in their seats, at their tables, sipping coffee and having snacks.
You see Feliciano's familiar face dining in both places.
⇒ Proceed
>Rooftop Cafe
>Bakery
The Pond in the Meadow
That is, except for the lingering, shadowy figure that stands behind you.
You’re pretty sure there wasn’t someone standing behind you.
no subject