αstσríα (ώίţςħέşş-şάή) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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acatalepsy_rpg2019-01-18 08:27 pm
acatastoria) wrote in acatalepsy_rpg2019-01-18 08:27 pm
( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ) | ᴡʜᴏ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ?
[ a message is sent out to all members of the circle -- a sudden image, projected from their wrists. and, perhaps to your surprise, it is of astoria, sitting by lake dona, staring into the water, looking as if she’s staring off into nothingness. but she seems to be talking to something -- or someone -- her voice tilting in an odd strain. ]
Alcina? [ her voice is soft, uncertain -- puzzled, confused. ] What are you doing here?
[ the only issue is that . . . there doesn’t seem to be anyone there. astoria is talking to the water, but there is nothing -- no hologram, no image, no person or creature standing there. Indeed, it just seems like astoria is talking to herself. ]
What have I done? [ her tone is immediately defensive, and her arms wrap around herself, her tone taking on a low, hissing tone -- unbecoming, really, of the normally bright and bubbly astoria. ] I am doing what we were intended to do, what we must do in order to save this universe. [ but she seems to pause, then, and she closes her eyes, murmuring to herself: ] You are not real, you are dead, there is no one here, I am waiting for them to return, they will be back soon . . .
[ there’s another gap of silence, almost awkwardly placed, before astoria sucks in a breath, looking shocked. ]
How are you speaking? [ it’s a sudden demand, as astoria lurches to her feet -- a graceless motion, from someone who typically quasi-floats through the air. ] You are dead. I am here, alone, and I was alone because of you. It lead to ruin because of you.
[ astoria’s voice sounds strained, and light dances at the end of her fingertips, digging into the flesh of her arms. vines and flowers begin to grow around her bare feet, curling around her legs, and spreading outward from her . . . a rampant sea of life, spiraling outward with every breath that she takes. the light grows as she inhales sharply, ripples emanating from astoria out into the lake, whatever energy she seems to be exuding disturbing the water. the sky darkens, a wind whipping from her fingertips, clouds abruptly rolling in . . . it almost looks as if a storm is coming, but the rain has not begun yet. ]
Leave!
Alcina? [ her voice is soft, uncertain -- puzzled, confused. ] What are you doing here?
[ the only issue is that . . . there doesn’t seem to be anyone there. astoria is talking to the water, but there is nothing -- no hologram, no image, no person or creature standing there. Indeed, it just seems like astoria is talking to herself. ]
What have I done? [ her tone is immediately defensive, and her arms wrap around herself, her tone taking on a low, hissing tone -- unbecoming, really, of the normally bright and bubbly astoria. ] I am doing what we were intended to do, what we must do in order to save this universe. [ but she seems to pause, then, and she closes her eyes, murmuring to herself: ] You are not real, you are dead, there is no one here, I am waiting for them to return, they will be back soon . . .
[ there’s another gap of silence, almost awkwardly placed, before astoria sucks in a breath, looking shocked. ]
How are you speaking? [ it’s a sudden demand, as astoria lurches to her feet -- a graceless motion, from someone who typically quasi-floats through the air. ] You are dead. I am here, alone, and I was alone because of you. It lead to ruin because of you.
[ astoria’s voice sounds strained, and light dances at the end of her fingertips, digging into the flesh of her arms. vines and flowers begin to grow around her bare feet, curling around her legs, and spreading outward from her . . . a rampant sea of life, spiraling outward with every breath that she takes. the light grows as she inhales sharply, ripples emanating from astoria out into the lake, whatever energy she seems to be exuding disturbing the water. the sky darkens, a wind whipping from her fingertips, clouds abruptly rolling in . . . it almost looks as if a storm is coming, but the rain has not begun yet. ]
Leave!
no subject
[ it's a quiet promise, but it seems to be the most focused she has been, in a moment. ]
The loss of . . . I will talk to you about it later, I -- I will. You have my word. And nothing will harm the residents of Akvos, while they are here. I will ensure it, but I need -- I need to . . .
[ there's a silence, before her brow furrows, her head tilting -- not that steve can see it, but . . . ]
-- don't trust everything you hear, Captain Rogers. And stay safe.
[ and the feed terminates, abruptly. ]