Multiverse Theory's a Bitch | Open To All

[forgeabettertomorrow]

WHO: Darin Altway and YOU!
WHERE: Around The City
WHEN: throughout event
WHAT: Darin's has managed to escape his captors and fight off their indoctrination, but at a terrible cost
WARNINGS: mentions of brainwashing and intense, likely graphic violence

The last few weeks have been a horrific blur.

No sooner did Darin arrive in this familiar-yet-different world, but he was suddenly approached and led to a facility that promised him 'answers.' He had no idea what sort of 'answers' he'd be getting.

For the last few weeks, Darin has been captive of the Children of the Verunta; a cult of 'his' own making. You see, the Darin Altway of this world wasn't so lucky. Where our Darin had managed to find peace and camaraderie, where he'd managed to find acceptance and love, the Darin of this perverted reality had fallen too far. He'd given in to Diomuhr and those who came to believe in and worship his destructive power became a hellish cult, a personal army that indoctrinated people into their order or laid waste to those who refused to accept Diomuhr as their savior. Believing Darin to be his alternate self, they sought to restore their leader to his former glory by showing him the things he had done.

It was more than Darin could bear. He escaped.

Roaming the alleyways at night, Darin stumbles about, digging through trash and dumpsters for some kind of food. Sustenance. Anything. He looks haggard, starved, like a frightened animal. His clothes are tattered and stained with dried blood. Likely his own, but there's really no way of knowing, is there? He avoids light sources as much as he can out of fear of being spotted and his most defining feature, his stark blue hair?

It's been dyed a sickly black with a combination of oil and mud. It's matted and tangled and messed in every which way, and only bits of blue peek through. Hearing footsteps approach, he draws a jagged piece of metal from his pocket in defense.

"Who's there?! Tell me who you are, dammit!"

Comments

[pennyroyals]

The thing with being a Cait Sidhe, really, is that Tybalt's footsteps are only heard when he wants them to be. But sometimes that cue is the better option. People don't often appreciate being sneaked up on, especially people who look like they've been through the better part of Hell and back.

Like the man in front of him.

The shadows where Darin is hiding, however, are a cat's general domain, so Tybalt isn't worried about the makeshift weapon that's been drawn. He steps out of a particularly thick piece of shadow on Darin's left like he's materialized there (and he has, in a way, especially given that the footsteps Darin heard would have come from the exact opposite direction). His hands are held up in the near-universal signal for I come in peace.

"Easy, friend. Whatever may be hunting you, it's not me. And I'd rather not return home to my lady bloodied, as it weakens my case of scolding her for the practice. I'm Tybalt."

He looks entirely human, courtesy of an illusion spell hiding his more obviously fae features. "And you look like you could use assistance." More than looks. Tybalt can smell the blood on him.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

The man's introduction does little to assuage Darin's obvious fears and he stumbles out of hiding, still brandishing the jagged piece of metal.

"Can you send me home? Can you get me the hell out of here?!"

His tone is frantic and from the way he keeps swallowing, it's clear his throat is dry. He appears to pause for a moment before making another request.

"Allura. Do you know anyone named Allura? Do you know where she is??"

[pennyroyals]

"None of us can find our ways home yet, though with the Porter awake once more there's some sliver of hope newly rekindled that the possibility may once more exist."

Tybalt doesn't move from where he stands, still keeping his hands within sight. He recognizes a cornered creature when he sees one, the familiar feral light in the other man's face. Based on the questions, this man is another meta, which means whatever has happened to him, it's far from safe out in the open.

"I can, however, offer a change of location from this alley -- somewhere hidden, somewhere safe. Somewhere with food and drink and a shower."

Which it would appear his new acquaintance could greatly use. He hesitates at the name, before shaking his head.

"I don't know the name, I'm sorry. But many new faces have been arriving here, for the first time in years. If she is here, however, finding lost things is my fiancee's specialty."

[forgeabettertomorrow]

"I'm not going anywhere with anyone. Not again. How do I know you're not with the rest of the Children?!"

His voice gets more agitated, louder than he means for it to get. And maybe it's that little agitation that startles another alley cat to run away further down the alley.

It's really all Darin needs to set him off. He believes Tybalt isn't alone and that's all he needs to act now. Magical energy pulses down his leg into the ground.

"Get away from me! All of you!"

The concrete between them erupts into a breakwall of spikes made of rebar and cement.

[outofthetower]

Everything comes down to blood. No matter where she is and who she chases the blood shows her the way. She had noticed the Children of Verunta changing tactics at the same time the scent of their leader’s magic returned to the streets. But it didn’t smell right.

His power used to smell only of heated metal. Now as she follows the blood calling to her...she can taste the bite of the wind blowing in from the sea. Until she finds him, and metal flashes in the light.

October looks like any other human being, brown hair, tall for a lady with a leather jacket. She holds up both her hands. “I’m October.” She waits for a moment then says, “And I can ask the same of you. The moment your magic appeared on these streets the Children changed tactics.”

She doesn’t move closer. This could get bad. She can heal at a rapid rate but she needs him to stay still. She needs answers. “I just want to ask some questions, then we can part ways and you can do whatever you want to do. Fair?”

[forgeabettertomorrow]

"How do you know I have magic?! No one's supposed to know!"

His voice is frantic and hoarse. He lowers himself to the ground. Whether he's ready to flee or attack, both outcomes are equally possible.

"...What do you want from me? Why does everyone want something from me here?!"

[outofthetower]

Life isn’t fair. She has known that for most of her life but it never makes moments like this easier. Toby slowly sits down and in his view she snaps her fingers. Her illusions fall away with the scent of cut grass and bloody copper filling the air. “I’m Dochas Sidhe. To my kind of Fae all magic has a scent.”

Without her illusions her features are sharper than a human being’s. From the angle of her ears at the cut of her jaw and even her eyes fog colored in a way no human eyes can match. Blonde streaks run through her hair like the reflection of light on lake water. “And I told you, I just want a few questions answered. You can choose to do it or not. This is entirely optional. I can continue looking into this without your input. But it helps me and maybe, it can help you.”

She takes a breath. There it is again the scent of heated metal and the ocean breeze. She has the right person. “And by the root and the branch, the oak and the thorn, by Oberon and Maeve our lost king and queen, I swear to you that I will keep your secret about your magic. What I am sometimes reveals things people don’t want to share. You won’t be the first I keep secrets for. ...can you tell me one thing regardless of what you decide? You came from the Porter very recently, didn’t you.”

[forgeabettertomorrow]

The drop in the illusion appears to give him pause and, for a moment, there's a hint of warmth in his eyes. Maybe it's the angled ears, reminding him of someone who he so desperately wishes to see.

It's enough for him to lower his makeshift weapon. Enough to make his hunched shoulders slouch in exhaustion. The alarm leaves his features and weariness sets in as he slinks back into the shadows a bit more.

"...I...I think so. My sense of time is...it's...I don't know how long I've been here. It feels like a few days...or weeks...I'm not sure."

He pauses. This stranger was kind enough to give him their name. He should at least oblige in kind.

"My name is Dio—...rin. It's Darin. I'm Darin Altway."

He raises a muddied hand to his head and shakes it vigorously, to clear the haze.

[codeofiron]

Brandon hadn't thought he was being loud enough to be heard over the other man's own scrambling. But, then, there is an awful lot of debris in this alley. Hard to avoid stepping on something.

His response to the demand is to simply...stop, his back against the brick wall. He's not here to confront anyone. At least, not right now, and not someone who clearly looks to be another escapee of some kind.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

The silence does nothing to assuage Darin's fears.

"Well?? Are you with the Children?! Gonna bring me back?! Try and force me to take my place at the head of the order?!"

He swallows the lump in his throat, passing the metal piece from one hand to the other, nervously, as if he's not sure from which direction an attack might come from.

"Come on! Tell me the truth!"

[codeofiron]

The Children? The order? That wouldn't be part of the government, he can't imagine. So what is it?

Enough to send this man over the edge, from the look of him. "...No."

As in, no, he's not with the Children, whoever they are. Perhaps not the best choice of word, given the last demand. But choices of words are not Brandon's strong suit.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

"Then who the hell are you?!"

He doesn't like the feel of this, and Darin's psyche is frayed enough that he's willing to attack first and figure out the rest later.

[fauxmarth]

Honestly? She'd hoped it was Guzma she found picking in this particular dumpster. They haven't exactly been able to live it up in this situation, either, though their fortunes fared far better than Darin had.

Regardless, when met with such hostility, Lucina starts, bringing her hands up. Lessons here have taught her she's more likely to encounter hostility in the face of an old friend than true danger, so drawing steel is out of the question. For now.

"Peace!" she calls from her distance, lit dimly by the streetlight behind him, whereas he remains a haggard shadow. "I'm not here to do you harm -- forgive me, for startling you...!"

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Everything was turned upside down in this place. Even though there was a chance that this wasn't the Lucina he knew, the familiar voice and face immediately make him drop his guard.

He lowers his makeshift weapons and stumbles out of the shadows of the dumpster.

"L-Lucina...? Is that you...?"

[fauxmarth]

"Darin?!"

So much for caution; hearing her name is confirmation enough for her, to say nothing of the tufts of telltale pointy hair glinting blue in the light behind him. Her heart goes from thumping loudly at a threat to leaping into her throat with a mix of despairing joy as she hustles over, wasting no time at all in lunging to embrace him.

"Gods! I'd heard mention of you, but didn't know for sure...!"

[forgeabettertomorrow]

The moment she embraces him, she'll feel his muscles tense up like steel cords, like a shelter dog afraid of another's touch. It lasts for but a moment before Lucina will find herself completely supporting his weight as exhaustion sets in.

"Oh gods...gods Lucina I can't..."

He clings to her as he tries to find his voice.

"Thank gods it's you...! It's really you...!"

[h2no]

Bad luck; this particular alleyway is one Archie likes to use as a drop location. He thinks it might've been compromised for a moment-- annoying; the stuff he wanted to recover from here would be a good help. Important data, some more ammo. That sort of stuff.

Darin whips around and yells at him, and Archie pulls his handgun on him. He doesn't have his Pokémon out, but he's ready to release them at a moment's notice.

"Calm down," he says, though there's no actual care in his voice. This is an inconvenience to him. "And fuck off somewhere else."

[forgeabettertomorrow]

"A..Archie...?"

Darin lowers his weapon in a mixture of disbelief and relief.

"Archie! Oh thanks gods! I'm so glad it's you!"

He starts to approach the man, arms outstretched to hug him.

[h2no]

There's an expression that crosses Archie's face that settles there a lot, that Darin will remember. Confusion, where his single brain cell doesn't spark and he can't work out what's going on. Then it warps more into disgust.

He hates the government and what they're doing here, but it made him selfish and paranoid. What was that Shelly always said to him...? Stop going off and doing crazy things on your own?

Archie still does what he can when he can, but when he can is becoming less and less, and it's becoming more and more about panicked survival and making sure no-one sees him. Before, he'd fired a gun in Aegis training and had puked after firing it, got teased a little.

Now, he holds it and immediately fires it at Darin's leg with absolutely no remorse. Someone who's... stopped caring about collateral.

"Get back, asshole! Don't touch me!"

WILDCARD PROMPT THAT'S SOMETIME AFTER THE MAIN LOG PROMPT

[patchricide]

Princess Allura thought she had reached a point where nothing could surprise her anymore. Not after the alternate realities she had seen — the horrible paths she could have taken, the way the reality she knows could easily have been rewritten into a different thing entirely.

But then she not only found herself in another reality, but one where Darin was a prominent part — and had an entire religious cult form around him.

Naturally, she wants to know more about what is happening. And so naturally, she's on the streets in the part of the city where last word of the cult had originated. Of course, a good question right now is what she actually expects to find...

She could swear she's heard the clamor of combat. Is it bad that it seems likely she might actually find Darin?

HOW DARE YOU COME INTO MY BAR AND INVENT PROMPTS

[forgeabettertomorrow]

That's definitely the sound of combat. And with bystanders rounding the corner and running away, in her direction, it's become more and more apparent that whatever is attacking is nearby.

As she rounds the corner, she'll find Darin in tattered and blood stained clothes, wrapped in some tattered tarp as if it were a cloak. The grime in his hair has given it's usual blue a sickly pallor and his face is devoid of any emotion other than contempt. He's holding someone by the throat, crushing their windpipe and when he's choked the life out of them, he pitches the body into a parked car with enough force to fold it in half at the point of impact.

When he turns to Allura, she'll find the usual vibrant green in his eyes replaced by a piercing amber. And when he sees her, he doesn't appear to recognize her. Not right away at least.

Or maybe he's just that far gone.

I DO WHAT I LIKE AND YOU LOVE IT

[patchricide]

"Darin...?"

As soon as she speaks, she questions if she ought to have let the name leave her mouth. It's obviously Darin. It's obviously a Darin. But there's nothing to definitively prove it's her Darin. And if it's not... well, there's the cult. That could be a problem.

She starts to turn — not abandoning him on the spot, but pivoting so that her options are open, so that she can fight back or run or whatever the situation might call for. Just in case things go south rapidly.

But she keeps speaking to him.

"Darin, speak to me. What's happened to you?"

Sorry for the delay, got sick this week!

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jacob was just out on a general-purpose scouting mission, getting the lay of the land in this horrific new reality, when he happened to approach the wrong ragged-looking figure in an alleyway, and got a sharp piece of metal pointed at him for his trouble. He immediately recoils, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture to show he's unarmed.

"Hold on, man. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm-"

It takes a moment. All the time he's known Darin, his most distinctive and recognizable feature has been his bright, thick blue hair. The person in front of him right now doesn't have that, nor does he have Darin's loud confidence or burning passion or vibrant appearance. He's haggard, thin, terrified. Jacob has to do a double, then triple-take before he squints his eyes and says:

"...Darin?"

No worries!

[forgeabettertomorrow]

"Jacob...?"

Darin manages to swallow the thick lump forming in his throat and, in disbelief, he drops his makeshift weapon. Of all the people who could stand a chance at recognizing him, Jacob might be one of the last people he wants to see.

"Don't...Don't come in any closer..."

He tries to retreat further into the alley, to find some sort of escape in the darkness behind him.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

"It's okay, man. I'm staying put."

Jacob doesn't move. He has a pretty good idea of when someone needs a hug and when they need their space. He just hopes that Darin doesn't just run away. Even in this ravaged state, it's good to see him.

"Damn, man. What happened to you?"