@everyone (cw: pit shrine related gore)

[unwings]

It’s time we address the behemoth released from the shrines.

For those who weren’t in the pit, we shared the cavern with 4 occult shrines that produced a steady flow of blood. When the exterior of each was removed, a second was beneath - an armored figure with a spiked halo knelt in prayer, bleeding from empty eye sockets. Save for one other - a standing, armored skeleton-like humanoid carrying the upper half of an iron maiden, and wielding a spiked ball at the end of what appeared to be a chain of its own small intestines.

When the last of these shrines were opened, pillars of writhing flesh struck through the pit’s ceiling. Later, it was apparent these were the monster’s legs, and some were crushed underfoot when it began to retreat from its cage.

Proximity to the shrines caused a flood of sinister whispering and visions of a shadowed figure, and those of us succumbed to the ritual’s effects felt a certain draw to them. It’s unclear if the acolytes were hoping we’d interact with these shrines, as they never intervened, but the monster’s escape caused the eventual collapse of the pit and did them no favors.

Did anyone in the rescue team see where it went, after it broke off from the cavern? Best we learn what this creature is and what it’s capable of before we encounter it again.

There will be a cross-faction book exchange and research effort hosted in Istredd's domain regularly. Please come by if you’re interested in helping with this, sharing books not available in your faction, or any other pursuit of this world’s knowledge.


And, if anyone’s seen Dean Winchester - in the Horizon or otherwise - Sam, Jo and I would appreciate a word.

Comments

[familysucks]

[He'll take that as a yes.]

You get to use that excuse only once. You'll have to think of a better one, next time.

I haven't seen your monster, or your Winchester. Did you happen to catch a name from either your visions or the acolytes?

[unwings]

Can we not call it my monster?

[ but he's apparently fine with your winchester ]

No names, no. I witnessed a vision of a snow covered mountain surrounded by three hands, and another of a shadowed figure surrounded by black smoke or fog walking across a red landscape that seemed to... drip upwards?

[familysucks]

You can call it whatever you like.

[Michael is sticking with his assessment. He's not wrong on either count.]

None of it sounds familiar. I hate to suggest it as much as you'll hate to hear it, but you'd do better to pass along the vision proper.

[unwings]

I suppose I could pass it to you in the Horizon. Your domain or mine?

[familysucks]

Show me what you've made, for once. What should I be looking for?

[unwings]

A park. Surrounded by a line of trees, but a tunnel should open for you as you approach. It's next to the Roadhouse.

[ if the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drown in a bathtub in 1953 merged with a botanical garden that expanded out in to wild and untamed nature. plus, a little rundown church somewhere in there. ]

[familysucks]

I'll be there shortly.

["Don't keep me waiting," he wants to add, but that's a surefire method to be left tapping his foot for hours. Let the anxiety of big brother roaming his domain unattended be motivation enough for Castiel to make a timely appearance.

Although Castiel's not the only one with a taste for nature, his domain is easy enough to locate. He'll find Michael in the central clearing, inspecting the flower beds with the same intense judgement of a man at a car dealership kicking tires.]

[unwings]

[ it's plenty of motivation, and cas won't keep him waiting long, hurrying to arrive so michael isn't left unsupervised in his domain for too long. of course he's already staring down the calla lilies critically. ]

They're just flowers, Michael, they don't often have ulterior motives.

[ so stop looking like you're ready to interrogate his garden. ]

[familysucks]

Though younger siblings sometimes do.

[Yes, he is going to remind Castiel of the gossamer-thin trust between them despite being the one to suggest his brother's domain instead of his own. He's still holding grudges about acts Castiel has yet to commit.

Michael turns to face Castiel and assesses him too for a moment, then holds out his right hand.]

Let's proceed.

[unwings]

Older siblings aren't immune to them either.

[ lucifer certainly loves an ulterior motive, and castiel's certain michael's commitment to playing out the apocalypse wasn't only because dad said so. ]

Fine.

[ With a reluctant, tense inhale, Cas reaches out, taking the offered hand.

Through the bond, Michael sees the interior of the pit, the shrines, both intact and decorated with an odd symbol, as well as cracked open, seeping blood, absorbed from castiel's perspective while the creature trapped below leaks insidious, maddening whispers into his ascension-warped mind. castiel's name spoken in perfect enochian, the kind that would rupture mortal ear drums but sounds like sweet music, like home, to them. from the dark mirror of castiel's memories, the madness clings to michael like quick sand, like drying tar, as if the monster could reach through consciousness alone and pull at him to drag him under. but the flashes don't linger long enough for michael to be lost in it.

he sees the vision of the snow capped mountain, and the dark figure. and lastly, the ritual itself, with all the nightmare fuel and pain of bones twisted and fused with another organic being. cas spares no detail, maybe on purpose, maybe being cheeky, but all the same, certain michael can handle it, and thorough in sharing intel. ]

[familysucks]

[Castiel might be surprised how simple Michael's motivations are at times. Still, he's not going to argue. One need look no further than Heaven's handling of the Apocalypse to see that honesty is not their family's chief virtue.

(But he, too, would look to Lucifer as the prime example of an angel with ulterior motives.)

The images flood into his mind in too-perfect detail and clarity—the cheeky bastard—but Castiel is right. There is very little Michael cannot bear. All the same, by the time the visions have passed he feels unclean, like a ripe fruit run through with fungal mycelia: unblemished on the surface while carrying rot within. Good thing he doesn't dream.

Michael takes his hand back and flexes his fingers, as if Castiel's touch has left behind a residue.]

Deeply unpleasant.

[Yet it still rates somewhere far below the misery of discovering their Father's true nature. Michael would gladly walk into that pit if he could trade a few weeks of madness to restore his creator to the flawless image of Him he'd held in his mind.]

And unfortunately, still no more familiar now that I've seen it myself. Solvunn's shrines aren't so bloody.