polylogs | SPECIAL EVENT: The Flower Oracle

✖ Meet The Oracle

A low thrumming sound builds in the background noise of the raised village, starting so softly that it would be easy to mistake it for the ever present hummingbirds. It keeps building slowly, somehow managing to be both a sound and to bypass the ear as it hums in the bones. The local Temple Guardians bump heads and brush against each other, quietly affirming their bond as they divide their duties: one staying with the local Temple and the other winding through the paths of the village down to the bud of the Flower Oracle in its place of honor in the city center.

The villagers stop what they’re doing, not quite in a panic, but their speed is deliberate and definite. They gather things on their way, flower wreaths, fish, beautiful food, sharp knives, until everyone has something in their arms. There is an ecstatic tension in the air, after all, the time has come when these people will yet again see substantial proof of their god, and it seems they have forgotten all about the Travelers who might have joined them. There is plenty of room for everyone to gather in a circle around the green bud that has grown even larger.

The thrum rises until it is hard to breathe, until some of the structures around begin to groan in the onslaught, and then it stops, suddenly. In the vacuum of silence, there is a wet and meaty sound as the bud begins to open, a first hint of things that look like red lips and white teeth. A canny Traveler might be forgiven for running at that point. The visceral sound of the splitting, of this birthing, continues as the bud splits, then splits again as the four sepals fall open, exposing an inner surface that glistens red and is lined at the edges with white sharp growths that may be fangs. The villagers ignore the implicit threat. They have eyes only for the structure in the middle.

Who can blame them? Translucent petals form a breathing tower, curled tight and perfect as a seashell. A glow pulses like a heartbeat as the petals slowly unfurl, collapsing elegantly to reveal the Oracle and provide protection against the threat of the sepals. The Flower Oracle is beautiful, glowing, soft and round. She is initially surrounded by four guards, each masculine and clearly dangerous, but they move aside to leave a clear path. The villagers line up with their sacrifices, and there is ritual patience in the act. Everyone will have their time with the Oracle, and anyone must be allowed their time alone within the petals.

Notes:
Characters who wish to approach the oracle need to respond to the thread titled ‘Meet the Oracle’. After they get their response, they can post a separate reaction thread to play out some of the consequences of the event.

Responses to the Oracle Thread should include: a short description of their IC reaction/actions, a description of what they bring for a sacrifice, and their question for the ancient. Villagers will have let them know that traditional options include: fish, flowers, art, blood, secrets, or memories. Characters/players may come up with their own sacrifices. Please include a note if the character helped decorate the local temple this month.

WARNING: Contacting the Oracle may result in negative IC results for characters, and there is a degree of randomness in how the mods assign results.

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David is used to it more than most.

Jean-Paul, who was really only passingly familiar with David's family - nodded cautiously. "Ouais," he agreed. "You do. Younger, right? I take it this is a revelation of some kind."

Oh Jean-Paul, how could he forget that he told Jean-Paul this. But he didn't expect that Jean-Paul should know this. Unless... had Laurie or Josh mentioned her knowing Jean-Paul? That didn't make sense.

"I lost all of my memories of her. Josh and Laurie had to tell me I had a sibling. I... The Oracle said I can get the memories back. And she gave me one. I remember holding her, just back from the hospital."

This is important, Jean-Paul. It's so important.

"I have a sister," he says, voice soft and full of awe.

Jean-Paul has a tendency to forget things that don't immediately affect him. It's one of the (many) reasons he may have been selected to go on a Self Improvement Cruise in the first place.

Understanding finally dawns in his eyes. "Oh my god," he says. "Oh, David. You did see the Oracle? And she-- Oh, David."

This is a feeling he knows almost exactly, having had his memories of his own sister erased from his mind. Its this commonality that moves him to pull David in for an quick embrace.

"You do," he says softly. "I am so glad for you."

David doesn't have any shame in this moment. His arms wrap right back around Kyle and he holds Jean-Paul to him, close and tight. Joy gives him strength, more than he would have expected.

"I can get them back," he told Jean-Paul. "I can have her back. I just... i have to figure out how."

A quest has been acquired.

"If anyone can figure out the how, it's you," Jean-Paul says honestly. After all, David has figured out so much in his short life. He's one of the smartest people alive. And one of the most tenacious - some might say stubborn.

Jean-Paul could relate to the latter.

"You do know if you need my help, I'll give it, non?"

David hardly thought he deserved to be counted among the most stubborn. No, he didn't get that level of ranking with Jean-Paul. But he did look up at the other at the offer for help.

"I..."

He went silent. Whatever he was going to say clearly gone because David knew what Jean-Paul would do to help him. Already knew.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't even know where to start. I didn't... I didn't know how much the very idea of hope would hurt."

He had given so much to the Fates that day. The first moment of his team he could live without. The skating he could give up even if it was one of his oldest and dearest fashions. But family? He couldn't just grab that back to him. So he needed a plan.

Jean-Paul could say a lot about hope, and how terrible it could be. He's had forty years, after all, in which to have hopes built up only to be broken again and again. But what good would the telling do? Some things were not ever properly shared.

"What did she say, exactly? Maybe there was a clue." He smiles a little. "We are detectives, after all."

Yes, hope can absolutely be terrible. But David? He needed this hope. More than he knew how to say. To have the chance to be whole, to know the hole in his mind was full would mean everything. To be able to know her voice, her smile, the warmth of her hug.

And whatever the Fates had done, it hadn't stopped. It had extended forward. It had taken anything he may have gained back home. And this was cutting him badly.

"Yeah, because we don't get in trouble with our investigations. She said that it will be a journey, but that the Ancient saw me and would grant me hope. Then she kissed my brow and the memory was there."

"Trouble, he says. Please. We'd get out of it."

It sounds like something from a fairy tale. Jean-Paul nods, pleased for David but also a little wary.

"Admittedly not much to work with."

"You would. I'm not the fast one," David answered, his voice soft and sad. But then he tries to smile. TO be hopeful.

"No, it's not. But we've worked with less. I've worked with less."

"As if I'd leave you." David's a teammate, which admittedly hasn't traditionally meant much to Jean-Paul, but more than that David is someone he's found himself growing more protective over during his tenure as leader of X-factor. Jean-Paul actually cares.

"I think it implies we won't find it all on this particular island."

David had to laugh. The idea of Jean-Paul leaving seemed so natural. People left and people like him, former mutants namely, got left behind. But he guessed that wasn't true now. Jean-Paul hadn't left him down since the moment he and Lorna had come to ask him for help. Somehow they'd, well, they'd become family.

"I agree. So I guess I have time to get my life in order, get my head on straight."

"I think we're all supposed to be getting our lives in order, ouais," Jean-Paul says, faintly annoyed.

"I thought I already HAD. Well. I suppose you're going to be very busy. Try not to exhaust yourself, David."

Lives in order. David laughs, shaking his head. Nope, he doesn't think that's possible.

"My life is a two-thousand page novel printed one sided and put in a binder. Only the binder has broken and the pages are scattered to the wind."

How is he supposed to put that back together?

"Your life was in order, but maybe you weren't being honest with yourself."

"Is it really that bad?" Hard to believe when David always seems so independent. Although Jean-Paul supposes he himself is independent and driven and still capable of being a hot mess.

"Nonsense, I'm always honest. Anyway, we're not discussing me."

Of course it can be that bad. Jean-Paul had no idea. But he supposed most people don't want to really believe that someone his age can have it as bad as they actually have it. Or perhaps someone his age just builds it up more.

"I guess we aren't," David agreed, offering a smile and a shrug. "But I'll figure it out. Get to the borrom of this. I can be that strong."

It's not as if David broadcasts it, either.

He looks at David evenly for a while, but then he nods. "You can be," he agrees. "You want to join me for a flowery cocktail? Or do you need some time alone?"

No, he really doesn't. David had long since learned not to show other people his moments of weakness. It was often him that pushed people away just enough to keep the things he was scared of showing as a secret.

Hadn't he kept all his greatest secrets and pain only to himself? He hadn't given anyone any clue about the Watcher data. He hadn't talked about his concerns over his death. He hadn't done a lot of things.

"Flowery cocktail sounds better."

SPECIAL EVENT: The Flower Oracle

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