Dreamwaking: Chimera - Sacrifice.

[Cinnabar]

"Figure of speech." Daylight, starlight, or the full moonlight of Aeryn's gleaming arse, the quibbling is beside the point. "I know about her. And yes, it's been settled." The details of which are no business of Aeryn's, however.

"You could've been useful. You could've done a lot of good, but I suppose you fucked up on that count as well. " Quietly-spoken as the two women approach, but he's stepping forward a moment later to nod to the pair of them, voice raised a touch.

"Ariane." Some moments of careful regard, there, grey eyes meeting grey; there is this matter of a pact, a mutual understanding that insists on this careful evaluation. Hm. "I was told to expect trees and leafy wilderness. I confess myself disappointed." Some small jest there, perhaps, given the living nightmare of gristle and gore that surrounds them.

His attention moves to the trader girl in the moment after, brows furrowing slightly at the distress clear enough in her posture and unveiled features. Perhaps something more than the strange and nauseating surroundings. "Rhaena. What's - " No, that's a stupid question. What's wrong? What could possibly be more wrong than having found themselves in this place, this horrorscape of flesh and filth, with others who are... ah. A glance to Ariane, and to Karolinger a moment later. And then, incongruously, a grin. A pattern noticed, perhaps. Understanding.

"Aha. That makes more sense." Back to Ariane and Rhaena a moment later. "You're bound to one another's death as well, I presume? The note, the knife?" Fingertips touch to the stone embedded at his throat; that too?

[Carnath-Emory]

Had young Glenn Burnie ever wondered why his teacher insisted on avoiding conversation with Rhaena? Here's his answer, were he near enough to see it: glittering bright and true in his sweetheart's eyes.

Oh, what a sight the pair must make! The one in her borrowed tunic and her bare feet; the other with her face all bared, tiny scales and all, trudging at some remove behind the swordswoman's back. It's only a small gap between them, and arranged at an angle such that Rhaena has a clear view of what will transpire ahead of them -- and that Ariane need lunge but a single step to place herself between the girl's eyes, and whatever might mean to blind them.

It is a positioning maintained with discreet care throughout this encounter.

"Cinnabar."

There are circumstances which cannot quite make her glad for the sight of him. There are pacts which must make her relieved at it all the same. And a glance past his shoulder towards young Aeryn Karolinger -- how long since she's set eyes on that one? -- which quite courteously does not drop below his waist. Oh, quite a back-and-forth between those two, as if she could assess the harmonics of the situation before wholly entering it.

Ridiculous, of course.

"Clearly different. We're none of us dying yet."

Hadn't it gone that way the last time? Each man and woman bleeding the other body dry, not much after setting eyes upon it; it'd slowed near the end, by her reckoning, but only a little.

"Chess?"

A promised question, delivered with some mild arch of the brow as she snags something from her hipside satchel; with some easy smile to encompass he and Karolinger both. A thin loop of leather, it appears to be, strung between two long fingers as she smoothes the dark hair back from her features, catching it up into a high ponytail. It's so innocuous a moment that one could almost forget their surrounds, except that the Governor asks a perfectly reasonable question, and --

Well. That's quite a look she's just turned upon Rhaena Olwak.

[Vanidor]

Aeryn looked at Ariane for a moment or two, a wry smile etched into his features. Still young, yes. No more than a quarter of a century. An odd state, yes? "Odd, do you no think then, Cinnabar? That someone with such a past can be so revered, but another cannot redeem themselves. Favourite's linger, even between right and wrong. Justice can suckle upon the end of m..." Then a pause, his eyes falling towards Rhaena.

He'd never seen the Olwak girl without the veil of course. But, truth to tell, that wasn't the reason that he'd still his voice. It was the girl herself. He looked at the woman for a moment. "I am surprised that you do no be here with Agnie. You two. You do be attached at the hip, yes? More often than no." He had stopped trimming his nails though. Simply looked at the other three.

"Fuck this place, by damn. It smells like the underside of an ass in here, and I have seen dens in Jaheuss that did be prettier." A snort. And then a spit, off to the side. Just like his feet, the spittle seemed to... sizzle, when it hit the fleshy earth.

[Cinnabar]

"Not yet." Agreeing with the swordswoman, and perhaps glad to be able to do so. For now, anyway. His grin broadens in the next minute, and he pats briefly at his thighs and hips as if searching imaginary pockets, then shrugs in disappointment. "I don't seem to have my board with me." The banter might continue, save for that look for Rhaena in the moment after.

Hm. So she didn't know? Her gaze for Rhaena implies this to be the case, and isn't that interesting. But not quite relevant just yet, perhaps.

Ariane's turning away, in any case, so there's time to glance to the mercenary and shake his head slightly. "You want redemption, you need to try and work for it. It's not going to just drop in your lap. And if you don't want redemption then you can stop griping about the unfairness of it all."

[Vanidor]

"Did no say I was griping. Just remarking. A truth. I could give a fuck what you do be thinking of me, of my actions, of my words. I aim to leave Myrken, and go elsewhere. And you will no have me to worry about. But I tell you straight. I will slay whatever man you send for me, if they try to bring me back. I am what I am, Governor, and your rules will no change that. Orvere set that in motion." A glance here for Ariane, a slight grimace of his lips. He was thinking on something. The knife spun once again. Twirling in his hands like a thing being caressed by a lover's gentle hand.

"Orvere fucked up a lot of things, to tell the truth. But, as they say, it is what it is. I canno change that. I do no think I would, either." His eyes remained upon Ariane. He really was thinking. "How far would you go, Ariane? To be keeping yourself alive."

The knife, it had stopped it's random rotations within his grasp. Instead, it was held like a fang, the blade turned downwards and the edge out. The thing scraped against the side of his thigh.

[Carnath-Emory]

An odd state.
He's four years her senior.
Somehow she'd never quite treated him that way.

Somehow, because for a long time Aeryn Karolinger was just that face, just that boy from Orvere, that youth too full of vigour and brilliance to die. There are lines you don't cross, Governor Calomel had once said, to which she might add that there are prospects you don't countenance, so that when you come up against one, all that you can say is No, and all that you can do is put a sword in a man's way...

Her interest had been in Rhaena. Her wordless accusation had been for Rhaena. But then Karolinger opens his mouth and looses something new onto the landscape.

Except that really, it's not new at all.

"'Revered'," she echoes, and there's some bleak amusement to that tone, dubious and low; her head's turning back towards him now. The whole of her is. "Revered -- is that how you reckon it, Aeryn Karolinger? Or do you just spill out whatever words she's spoke into your ear?" With some slight tilt to her head here, some searching lift of her brow as she regards the man, he with his spit and his vulgarities, his knife that moves like a living thing in that hand.

"Or perhaps it begins with you, mn? Perhaps she's the one who recites it like a lesson she's learned so well -- ah. No. I will not believe it of her. But of you -- oh, tell me this, Aeryn Karolinger, tell me who reveres." A step towards him, bare feet light upon the putrescent landscape.

"The Olwak girl reckons me for cruel; your Agnieszka would say monster -- but we knew that already, that's well-known. Who, then? Count D'zir paints me a shrew; no help for you there. Yon Governor? I tear open my ribs for that one, and once he's seen all that's there, he reckons me for a thing without conscience." An approach for true, surely mindful of the knife in his hand, of its twin thrust through the waist of her own trousers. An approach despite both of these things, chin lifted and eyes a cold demand, for:

"Who?" she cries. "A name, or restate yourself!" and the thin frost of the words shatters between them.

[Vanidor]

"I did." His voice was soft here, for a space of moments. There was honesty there. "It is easy to respect and admire someone who is... so sure of her actions. On the surface. Conscience or no." There was a small cough that wracked it's way through his throat, and a phlegmy spit that once again sizzled it's way through the air.

"We are all monsters, I think, in our own ways. You. Me. We are simply obvious about it." He looked at her with that same face. That belonging to the youth that died in Orvere and came to love the thrill of death. He was not sorry for that loss of innocence.

"You did no answer my question."

[Carnath-Emory]

He was not sorry for that loss of innocence.
Ariane clearly is; read it in the quieting of her features, in the gentling of eyes like slate. And who has spoken to her such words as these? For they, too, are familiar, own a particular resonance within her. All her thoughts would be far from here, if she would permit that of herself; all of her self, as well --

She permits no such thing.

"We are," she answers him quietly then, "and we are." Monsters, all. "I am told a thing, a curious thing: that pain broadens the soul. I like the sound of that very well. But I think, I wonder .. if it mightn't strangle it, too.

Mm. Perhaps it only depend upon the quality of the soul."

But here's some shift of a thin shoulder, here some sidelong and wandering step; it does not retreat, does not quite give ground, but certainly accomodates a want for space ... if such a want exists at all.

"I'd name that weakness, such impoverishment. I'd shun it wholly. I do," and here's some edge of a smile for the man, sidelong sent. "But I've no answer for your question, Aeryn. None worth hearing. There are lines that I do not cross. Not even for my own life's sake. But until I reach those boundaries?"

Perhaps the smile slightly broadens.

"I go exactly as far as I must."

[Lent]

Good point, Bloodmoon, damn good point. Fact of the matter was that this isn't real. Couldn't be real. Was one thing when he thought himself hallucinating, but the elf seemed to see the same damn things, right?

Meant two things. Either this was hell, and then by killing Karolinger, he might be doing whoever was connected to him a favor (and maybe whoever it was deserved it anyway). Or this wasn't quite real, not totally, in which case, the note couldn't be believed. It was worth the risk for Lentham at this point. There was no one left in the world that he really gave a damn about.

Didn't really matter, either way. "Seth, I can't let Karolinger get away again, no matter the cost. We're in this twisted place for a reason, and my reason is to finally see justice be done, to finally end him. He's hiding now, outside the reach of our law. If I lose this chance, we may never get another. This is the only way."

Hopefully that would be enough to convince the elf. That also didn't matter either way. They were getting closer now. He could hear voices just on the other side of the next hill, and he raised his hand to quiet Seth. Time for argument was over. Soon be the time for something else altogether.

[Jirai]

There were looks from the Governor, voiced questions from Karolinger, silent ones from Ariane. A silence that she would imitate. Words flew between Ariane and Aeryn, and Rhaena watched as she had been directed. One hand had moved, though, the piece of paper held in silent answer to Ariane's earlier look, if she would have it.

[Seth_Bloodmoon]

Seth exhales a quiet sigh at Kurt's words. He just didn't know enough of this place. Of the entire situation. He didn't like it and he couldn't shake that feeling of something bad that had the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising.

He could understand Kurt's need to bring justice to Karolinger. Could understand the need for revenge upon a man that had killed or harmed a friend. He knew these feelings well enough. Still there were far too many unknowns about this hellish place.

Even if this place was not real, a death here could mean a real and quite final death in reality. Killing a person would kill their link partner, if the note were not just a play of words, could end up eliminating them for real. Hell, for all they knew this place was all too real. So many damned unknowns and it was frustrating the tall elf, even if he did not show it.

Seth would nod a little as his companion holds up his hand. He would remain quiet for now, though a slight frown would creep across angular features. He swore recognized some of the voices. He did recognize some of the names spoken. The only thing he could do for now was wait. Well he could break his silence and say something aloud to draw attention but he wouldn't do that. He could only wait and react when the time for action arose.

[Cinnabar]

Quiet for a time, while the mercenary and swordswoman converse; some few paces of distance given, far enough to serve as a gesture of consideration, yet near enough to intervene, should something more than words be exchanged. The words that are exchanged, however, give him pause enough; there's a slight frown at Ariane's tirade, some small wince at that mention of conscience, and curiosity at Karolinger's confession of reverence. Perhaps this is the purpose of this place also, to allow words to be spoken that might normally languish unsaid.

A pace or two taken closer to Rhaena, and a sidelong glance for the girl for all that his gaze for the most part remains on the other two; quiet words, murmured so as not to interrupt or distract their conversation.

"Have you seen any others yet? Beyond Aeryn and Ariane and me?" Perhaps making conversation, but there's a definite interest in the girl's answer. It'd be useful to know who else to expect in this place, who else might be sided with, and who should be guarded against.

[Vanidor]

"Whatever length needed, whatever it is that you must. Up to a certain line..." Another look for the knife. Eyes caressing the length of the blade once again.

"What, then, would you do to keep another alive?"

Aeryn raised his gaze upwards towards Ariane and grinned slightly.

"How far do you go there?"

[Glenn]

Agnie had liked the trick with the blood, huh? Well he would have liked it too if it had actually worked. "The blood felt real enough in my hand. I still don't get why the ground doesn't like me and it likes you fine." Glenn couldn't really understand why anyone would not like him but like her fine. Most females in Myrken didn't like Glenn one bit, but neither did a lot of them like Miss Agnieszka Kaczmarek. "I don't usually fight so dirty, but there's no way I'd beat you in a fair fistfight." She was both quicker and better trained than he. Yeah, he had the strength advantage, but so what?

"Alright, though. We're in this together from here on in." Just don't do anything stupid, Agnie, y'know, like cut your arm just to see if you can bleed.

His eyesight was still a little blurry. In fact, it was almost a certainty that Agnie, up on the hill, would notice four people off in the distance first. Would she recognize Aeryn from so far away? Would she recognize Rhaena or Ariane? She would certainly see that two people were advancing towards them, and one with a weapon out, that one of them was Lentham? Even if she did, even with her speed, it would take minutes before she and Glenn could reach the group. There would be nothing she could do to halt what was about to take place, only hope and pray that she might arrive in time.

[channe]

"A lot of things like me fine," she says, picking her way across the landscape. "I just -- well, they just have to realize they do. Or something. I don't know." At least they have this one thing in common: mutual distaste from women, a predeliction for a splash of scotch at the back of their throats, a growing love for the adrenaline hit of the blade, becoming more and more similar even as they grow further apart.

Agnie stops for a moment, shoving her sleeve down. It was only a little nick, to see if she bleeds just as well as the ground beneath their feet, and further proof of the fact that she hasn't a clue what's going on at all. Until -- her eyes narrow, her breath catches --

"Glenn, look -- look! People! That could be -- who's that? That hair, that's Cinnabar -- isn't it? There are four, and look, there are two others -- what the hell is going on?" A pause. Some of the figures are unknown, black hair that, at this distance, could be anyone's, unfamiliar people approaching, but -- there's one other in the group she'd know anywhere.

"Aeryn -- !"

With a squeal, she makes an attempt to snatch Glenn by the sleeve of his nightshirt. But either way, she's running towards the group. Fast.