FROM DUST TO DUST - Plot Post 1

[goneawaymod]

FROM DUST TO DUST

"Dust is only a name for what happens when matter begins to understand itself."
LINKS
WORLD INFO/WORKSHOPPING

BRIEFING
They're briefed on the situation. It's a full-scale incursion, where it's not a section overlapping the Gone-Away worl, the incursion zone allows access to an entire alternate universe. Full-scale incursions like this need to be resolved before reality breaks down entirely due to the two worlds overlapping.

They're told that Jorgmund has determined the objective is to gain something useful from this world, and that a simple diplomatic mission will procure it. They must make contact with the upper crust and some members of the clergy, who are fascinated by the prospect of their world folding into another. These aristocrats have a relationship with the Church, who has a powerful artifact in their possession. The New Hires will receive a special knife in exchange for some mingling, one that might be able to close up some of the holes in the reality of the Gone-Away World.

Their sponsors in this world are going to give them a few nights in a very classy hotel, and take them on a shopping trip to treat them to glamorous clothes and finery for the gala they're expected to go to.

That's it, that's the mission. Or so they've been tol.

The New Hires are also told about daemons. That everyone in this world has one. That there are different interpretations of what they are: the human soul externalized, or maybe something else, something alien and bad. Jorgmund tells them that they'll likely stick out, due to not having daemons.

This is a lie, of course. They suspect that the mechanics of this universe will rectify the lack of daemons the second they enter.

EQUIPMENT

• The New Hires will be sent over wearing clothing appropriate to the world they're entering, though for now it's plain and casual. (They'll be taken shopping later by their guides for their formal evening wear.)


• They'll only be allowed weapons and gear appropriate to the world, so most of their technology will be gone. The only guns they'll be allowed are revolvers and bolt-action rifles. They'll all have been given substitute weapons, for those that carry them.


• They'll be allowed a more stealthy version of their comms, that look like bracelets or leather cuffs. These have all the functions of normal comms. They project small holographic screens and holographic keyboards, instead of having physical ones.


• They will still have their powers, but will be warned to keep them under wraps, as no one in this world has any.


• Non-humans or people with other-than-baseline physical traits will get holographic image inducers styled as discreet world-appropriate jewelry. Or other accessories to hide what makes them look different.

CROSSING THE BARRIER

They cross over the shimmering barrier between worlds, and walk into a small park that's been cleared of people by their sponsors. All the buildings nearby are in an Edwardian style, with light brick, slightly baroque masonry, and arched openings. In the distance, they can see a college that seems to have even older architecture.

For a half second after they walk through the shimmering barrier they seem fine.

And then there is pain, like an iron hand gripping their insides and pulling something out between their ribs. For a moment, it feels like something vital is spilling out of them, like a big enough hole as been made for their heart and lungs and organs to spill onto the ground. It feels like something secret and private is being dragged into the open, where it doesn't want to be.

And yet, there is a sense of relief, like they've all suddenly had a splinter deep in their bodies that's worked itself out. There is no sense of emptiness left behind. It's not that they've lost something, it's that it's separated out - but remained connected. By some kind of invisible umbilical cord.

It's been externalized, not ripped away.

They're suddenly all there beside them, forming out of the ether. Daemons. Each New Hire can immediately sense which is their own. When they start talking, the daemons are sure in their knowledge that they were always there all along, just hidden away, and are delighted to interact with their other halves more directly.

Comments

[paganpoetry]

"Teaching your own soul to do tricks already?"

Rowena - who hasn't really said much to Robbie in her time here, although, in a fashion true to her core nature, it hasn't been purposeful neglect of her relationships with the other hires so much as furious and shamefaced brown-nosing to get perks from the Jorgmund staff taking up all her days - is accompanied by a truly regal stag with five points to an antler. If anyone's not being subtle about preening as if they just won the most exquisite daemon contest, it's her. She snickers at how small the bunny is.

"Oh, dear, and you're fixed in that shape, aren't you now?" says the stag, in a brogue as thick her hers, before coming in to get a closer look and catching one of those mighty antlers on a lowhanging branch of one of the park's trees. Promptly stag and Rowena nearly leap straight out of their skin with alarm, and the stag takes a comical stumble backwards, waving its head around and rearing up to do battle with the tree.

"That was a cheap shot," the stag yells at the tree, kicking.

"Bollocks," Rowena sighs, then gives a sheepish look at Robbie, then back down at Phil. "Hardly more impressive than yours after all."

[walkingballpit]

“More like figuring out how Phil can interact with the world,” Robbie says, after taking in the questions, barely veiled mockery, and tangling incident. When the daemon had gotten snagged, Robbie had started to move to help, but the daemon pulled free quickly.

Phil, on the other hand, takes offense, and the daemon’s ears twitch up straight. The brown fur stands on end, and Phil looks impossibly rounder. But it is not the offense that was meant to be taken. “You think pointing my ear’s a trick? What kind of lame magic shows are you used to?”

“Anyway, I think it’s a great shape. Phil’s small enough to get in tight spots or fit in my pocket if there’s a bright light. Can’t have your daemon going tharn, can you? Like a deer in headlights.” The bunny is placed on his shoulder with a final pat to get her to stay quiet. “I’m down for a friendly competition, but I’m not competing over who’s got the better soul. Yours has a lot of good points. So does mine.”

Phil is giggling into Robbie’s hair at the pun and quietly hiccups, “Pun intended. Pun so intended - don’t let him tell you it’s not.”