EVENT ∞ LOG — Sept. 125

[thediadem]

Event ∞ Log

Chromatic Dispersion

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Jump ⇅ :: Meteor Fall — Open Hearts — Notes

∞ Prologue ∞

Location: Kolliery — Conditions: Long days (14 hours); cool temperatures

Kolliery's short summer night plunges the industrial town into a brief darkness, one that soon lights up again with millions of crystalline shards. They plummet from the sky, sounding factory alarms and sending overnight staff into motion. Dust breaks loose from the mineshafts. Machines go awry, tipping dangerously.

Thousands of eyes peer upwards. In that moment, light becomes dark, near becomes far, reds appear to stretch like thread while blues come alive and attempt to swallow the world whole. Nothing makes sense, they are not themselves, and yet all comes together as it should. In a single instant, they see something greater than themselves. They witness something beautiful. Something terrifying.

The peace breaks: a man wails, wanting to claw his own eyes out; a woman sings, praising the stars for their wisdom; a child stares, unable to move or blink. The moment passes. Abruptly, life restarts again, like water sputtering free from an unclogged pipe. Perhaps another oddity will touch the town. Those oddities will pass, the residents think. They always do.

But deep underground, a viscous substance has begun to nest within the earth. It shimmers, a kaleidoscope of all colors at once, a fraction of the meteor shower that night. It stretches, seeing without eyes, elastic and fluid, until it touches the air. Then it hardens into a plain stone devoid of color.

It does not wait, for time means nothing to it. It simply knows, inevitably, it will be found.

Characters can drive to Kolliery, a trip of about 2-3 days each way, depending on rest and diversions. Attempts to investigate will yield conflicting results. The townsfolk will welcome visitors who aren't too nosy, but may be willing to answer questions if you befriend them first. Pockets will spawn in Kolliery, as well, but they're typically deep in the mines.

Use the OOC Questions comment if you'd like to know what your character will uncover!

Info & Mechanics — Kolliery — Knick's Fate ::: ⇅ Top

Color Out of Space

Sept. 6 — Midnight

©

Across the planet, a rumble disturbs the earth. Beds shake, picture frames rattle, and glasses shatter. Seconds later, the sky explodes into a brilliant light filled with incomprehensible colors. Later, witnesses will describe the pigments as iridescent, but no language can describe what they saw.

If you, too, were lucky (or unlucky) enough to stare into the sky at that very moment, a deeply unsettling grief will grip you. For an instant, between the hues that sear into your eyes, you glimpse the shape of something you have lost: not a person or a thing, but a piece of your soul that abandoned you ages ago, leaving behind only an aching nostalgia for a time when you were young and still had dreams for impossible things. Perhaps you think of your first heartbreak or the moment your family decided to move across the country, and you realized, for the first time, that you could be taken away from your friends and home just like that.

Then the meteors begin to fall. Small, vividly bright dots fill the sky. They grow larger and larger as they plummet. A few are the size of pebbles, while others are as big as golf balls. Their crystalline edges are sharp and uneven. Windshields shatter, cars are spun off the road, and pedestrians who are too slow to get under cover are struck by jagged shards. The impact shakes you out of your reverie, sending you and everyone else scattering. When each meteor hits the ground, its radiant hues burst. Colors ripple through the concrete and dirt, leaving behind only a translucent shard. The shard itself melts rapidly, absorbed by the earth.

The entire event lasts five minutes. It feels much longer.

Impact — Immediate & aftermath

The meteor fall does not result in widespread destruction, but it does break windows, cause highway accidents, and injure people on the streets. Those indoors might be knocked down by falling shelves or light fixtures. Weak pipes might burst, flooding bathrooms and restaurants. Meanwhile, injuries bear unusual marks of color: iridescent blood like oil mixed with water or a viciously bright purple bruise. The injuries themselves will heal normally with the right treatment. They don't hurt any worse or less. It's just...odd.

You'll find other drifts who might be willing to help, and who may demonstrate healing or other useful abilities of their own. Others will take care of their own only or flee the scene of an accident instead. What you do is up to you...and not everyone who gets your help may even want it. Trust is in short supply in this world.

Panorama has no formal emergency services. Enforcers, doctors, and nurses from local clinics or Saint Margery's Hospital are the most official individuals who can step up, but primarily, residents are left to help themselves and each other (or abandon each other, if they so desire). The hospital does have a few ambulances, but they're old and mismatched. In many cases, you'll have better luck getting someone else to drive you.

In the days and weeks following the immediate impact, repairs are needed and medical clinics require some extra hands. A few businesses will close, unable to stay open if they were especially struck hard by damage. That's not uncommon in Panorama, though, and someone else will take over the space soon enough. Residents will use the Forum to ask for help or announce any roads that've been blocked by fallen debris. Not every announcement comes from Panorama; some originate from Kolliery and Acreage.

Meanwhile, in the Fringes, the meteor shards leave visible scars across the shifting landscape. While areas in the Fringes typically don't show signs of common damage, for once, every diffusion zone will include some aspect of the meteor fall: a snowy log cabin with its roofed caved in, cars at an abandoned drive-in theater with their windshields cracked, or an ancient alien farm filled with bizarre, pulsing eggs that've been shattered, spilling their yolky goop everywhere. You might come across other fluxdrifts there, too, who need a ride or a hand after their cars were busted by a meteor shard. Others might be Raiders, pretending to be injured to trick good Samaritans like you into stopping only to rob you.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a frantic knock at your door reveals an injured victim outside; the intense sensations from the meteor fall causes you to freeze even as the shards begin to fall; a vehicle careens into the restaurant where you're working or eating in

A New Order — The Sea & Rising Sects

Five days after the meteor fall, unusual reports surface: the Yawning Sea has taken on a similar iridescent hue, its shimmering waves lapping at shores drained of color. Curious storm chasers will ride out to the edge of the landmass to explore, a common enough occurrence. Many fluxdrifts will shrug it off, having preferred to stay away from the ocean regardless. It's always been strange.

However, this phenomenon has caused a small portion of individuals to form a new order of those who believe that answers are held within the ocean's newfound chroma. With cars garishly painted in all shades of the rainbow, they take to the Fringes and drive straight into the water until they have sunk beneath the waves. Of the handful who manage to return, they claim that they are now awakened. When pressed, they can only say they received a most beautiful vision, but are unable to truly describe it. What's clear is that they are no longer the same.

The leader of this movement is One-Eyed Knick (the "K" is silent), a scrawny young man who's taken to standing at various street corners with his ragtag band of disciples, the Emissaries of the Gulp. Bullhorn in hand and messy cardboard signs in the other, he will preach about The Big Gulp, an event where the ocean will rise and devour the planet, thus ushering in a new age that will finally allow them all to return to their rightful worlds. In case you wonder about his name, it appears to be inspired by an old tattoo on his right palm of a single open eye. His other palm is blacked out entirely. Across his collarbone is a much newer tattoo that reads The Ocean Seas All. Knick will insist this is a very clever pun, but his closest friends will tell you his tattoo artist made an embarrassing mistake he won't admit to.

If you attend any of his tent-held and street sermons, you'll notice a bunch of 7-Eleven Big Gulp cups, none of them identical in design and from all eras of 7-Eleven. They contain a rainbow-tinted liquid that he claims is from the Yawning Sea itself. They're sold for 1 Joolie each and taste like old liquified Starburst with a hint of salt. Honestly, the flavor's all right and the drink doesn't contain anything dangerous, but it's clearly not from any ocean. Purchase at your own risk.

How your character reacts to One-Eyed Knick will determine his fate.
Decide here.

⇅ Top

Open Hearts

Sept. 7 - 19; Planetwide

In the morning, after the meteor fall, life continues. Your usual commute might be backed up by a ten-car pileup, or perhaps you're called in to cover a coworker's shift who's at home recovering from a concussion, but nothing's ground to a halt. Shops continue to open, the Scrapyard is bustling, and the sprawling flea market of tents and street tables continues to thrive. There's chatter about the meteor shards, of course. Your regular at the bar tells you she felt the weirdest thing last night when she looked up into that rainbow sky. Someone else complains that his car was smashed, and he was fired for failing to make it to work.

Then slowly, something begins to change.

Aberrant Pockets — Heightened Emotions

It happens any place, any time. You're driving through the Fringes. You walk into the LuxFilms theater for their midnight showing of a spliced-up version of Killer Klowns from Outer Space. You're sharing a pizza with a friend at the local joint. And then:

The air shifts. The temperature dips a few degrees. Before your eyes, the colors in your surroundings bleed away until everything is dull and grey. The food in your mouth turns to ash. But as for you, you feel an intensity bubbling up inside. It could be rage, sorrow, joy, or even a severe ennui that leaves you listless and unmoving. These emotions won't be new. It's something you were already experiencing in the moment, dialed up to eleven, a singular emotion that completely overtakes you. Small annoyances become rage-inducing. A sad memory turns into unending sorrow.

In some situations, the experience lasts only seconds. The sudden spike in emotion is hard to shake off, but you can feel yourself coming down. In others, it lasts long enough for you to do something you regret: firing your gun or coming to blows (did someone cut you off in traffic and now you've got your finger on the trigger? Does an argument with a coworker you can't stand result in knives drawn?), bursting into tears (in front of a customer? Or worse, in front of your greatest enemy?), or blurting out a confession (to your crush? Or a terrible secret you've been holding inside?). You're quicker to snap (why does everyone keep pushing you in this store?) or more prone to inappropriate giggles. Later, you might insist you were possessed or not yourself...but deep down, you've always known these things were inside you, even if you normally ignore them.

When the effect wears off, you might be dizzy. You're suddenly unsure of what caused such spontaneous behavior in you. In the most severe case, you might even pass out and wake up with little to no memory of what you did or said. What happened? Is there a bloodied corpse next to you and a blunt weapon in your hands? Are you suddenly behind bars at the precinct jail, drenched in a horrifyingly sticky substance? Or are you in the middle of a bar brawl you only vaguely remember starting? How much do you recall? Your memories can slowly start to come back...and soon, you realize that whatever happened, you were responsible.

Still, not every outcome is negative. Perhaps the sudden surge of emotions gave you the courage to say something to a friend you always meant to. Or, your infectious joy lightens someone else's day, too: you make a stranger laugh or decide to get out of your comfort zone and drag someone dancing on the street. Maybe, after a good cry, you feel a lot better and you share a hug with someone you've just met. You're a bit embarrassed, but nothing too terrible.

Each fluxdrift is affected differently, and not everyone within a pocket will fall under its spell. Still, if you manage to escape its influence, you might be confronted by a stranger attacking you for bumping into them or find a coworker sobbing in the walk-in freezer.

Pockets can only enhance existing feelings. They cannot create new ones nor alter a character's core personality. Whatever happens should be something your character is potentially capable of on their own, though they may be reluctant to admit it or haven't yet confronted that part of them.

Connection — Shared Emotions

Though you might luck out and avoid the aberrant pockets, you could still discover an unusual connection that opens up between you and another. This person could be a stranger or a friend. They might be across the city or miles away in the Fringes, or they could be sitting right next to you. The particulars don't seem to make a difference. One minute, you're settling in to read a book or stocking shelves on your shift; the next, you're struck by a rush of emotion not your own: terror, sorrow, elation, rage.

Your vision fills with shifting colors that blur and separate, nauseatingly bright. You smell something sickly sweet. It all hits you so deeply, so intimately, that you could almost mistake it as your own feelings. But you know it isn't. Which leaves you asking, who, then?

If they're not in your immediate area, the urge to find them takes over you. As you continue on your day, you can't stop thinking about it. You want to know who they are. You start to search for them in the face of strangers. You're distracted at work and begin making mistakes. Your spinning mind disturbs your sleep. You walk the streets, unsure of what you're looking for but certain you'll know when you see it. Eventually, you pack up your car and drive in a direction that just feels right, an invisible string tugging you onward.

The dangers of the Fringes or a late-night hour don't faze you. Though you're maybe nervous about entering a gambling den full of loan sharks or a dark alleyway where you're bound to get mugged, you take a deep breath and do it, anyway. This feels too important to let go of.

The closer you get to this mysterious person, the more you're sure you know where they are until, suddenly, you see them. You could've met them before—they might even be a close friend from home—but if you haven't, you still know in your heart that this is the person. Perhaps they're in the throes of their overwhelming emotions, or they've recovered from it hours or days ago. Or, perhaps, they've caught you just in time to rescue you from a bad situation, almost as if they were meant to be there at that exact moment.

Regardless, you're in front of them. Now what? How do you explain what happened? How can you be sure this isn't just a stranger who'll think you're crazy? But before you can doubt yourself further, you glimpse a spark of recognition in their eyes, as if they were waiting for you without realizing. It's confusing, probably, for both of you—even terrifying—but something inside you won't walk away. After all, you've now seen a piece of them you can't ever unsee...and it's clear they sense that, too. Shouldn't you at least speak to each other?

So you do.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS (FRINGES): eerie crystal statues shattered by the meteors, releasing ghoulish-looking specters into the zone; a member of the Big Gulp cult driving erratically toward you after their dip into the ocean; grotesquely mutated multi-eyed buzzards feasting on the aftermath of a bloody shootout

∞ Notes ∞

• Emotions affected can be positive or negative. Leaving a pocket once affected will not cause the effects to immediately subside. They can still linger afterward. They can appear anywhere, not just the city.
• Pockets are no larger than a room and can sometimes be as small as just a few square feet. Use the variation in size, location, and length of time in whichever way works for your threads.
• Pockets are only required for heightened emotions. Characters not need to be in a pocket to receive a transmitted emotion, but being in a pocket at the same time may exacerbate the effects.
• While characters will be compelled to find each other, they may not succeed. You can delay a meeting between two characters sharing emotions as much as you want.
• Cleaning up, helping others, and investigating the source are perfectly fine ways to participate!
• The mechanics for the upcoming Stormkissed bond will work differently from this event, but the two occurrences are related in-game. We'll release the Stormkissed information alongside the Aftermath near the end of the month.

Questions? Ask here

Main Navigation ::: ⇅ Top

Comments

daisy 🌌

[diametrically]

[ The Dome isn't really his style nor the type of place that he'd make a point of going to on a regular basis. That isn't to say that he hasn't been to a couple of cage fights in his life - not as a fighter mind you (he knows the extent of his abilities and they are far more suited to stealth and assassinations than bordering on dystopian entertainment-style fight to the death) but typically as a spectator trying to make a quick buck.

He knows that doesn't make him any morally superior to the fighters who are also trying to make a living (most of them anyway; he knew some of them were there for the sick bloodlust of it all), but at the end of the day, most things can be reasoned away when you're desperate enough for credits.

Gambling isn't what brings him here today. Long drives out to the Fringes hadn't worked in his favour so far. Not in dispelling the tiring pull of emotions that seems to be plaguing everyone these days, nor the strange rush of homesickness that recalling the meteor shower and then being stabbed by someone (they're very unrelated, we promise) had given him that has stuck with him days later - he thinks maybe raucous noise will.

Skipping the weird fleshy food he opts for something a little more on the liquid side, keeping to the edges of the crowd just as a fight begins. The hungry roar of the crowd makes him miss the announcement of the fighters but it doesn't matter because he isn't even really watching. All of this is just noise to him, something to help distract him from being here on Diadem. ]

[chuju]

[ To say Daisy hasn't been dealing with things well since the freaky meteor shower would be an extreme understatement. She's hardly slept since that first noticeable intrusion of happiness, the void left in the emotional wake threatening to swallow her whole. It's been years since she'd felt anything like it, but in an instant, she's back on the Zephyr, begging for the only thing that could stop the pain of her life.

It isn't Hive, she knows that. But what if whatever has caused this could be used to focus it, to intentionally manipulate the people here to do things against their will? The sheer terror of that possibility eats away at her, burrowing deep and twisting in her chest until it's hard to breathe.

That's why she's here tonight, despite having fought just two days ago. Perhaps it's the desperation in her eyes that convinces Juniper to let Daisy fight again so soon, and when she enters the ring, it's with an almost feral look in her eyes. She throws herself into the match with everything she has, kicking, punching, and quaking her opponent, who makes up for a lack of skill with their speed. The other woman reminds her of Yo-Yo, moving faster than Daisy can see, and it's as she begins to sink into the dance of instincts and enhanced senses that the wave of homesickness hits her.

Is it because of the thought association with Yo-Yo? Or did she have the association because of this feeling? They were both Inhumans and teammates, but they'd never been very close, so why would she feel this sudden aching in her chest, the need to be back where she belongs? It's like a punch to the gut, and she stumbles and misses her next kick, giving her opponent the perfect opportunity to send Daisy flying into one of the walls. ]

[diametrically]

[ Had Cassian not been so caught up in his own sleep deprivation and mission to find out what had happened to a neighbour he would have had more energy to check in on the people he knew here. It's not an easy thing to balance keeping the world at an arm's length when you have a tender heart that cares far more than is safe to let on, but it's the fine line that he walks every day (and fails at, most of the time).

So maybe if he had known that Daisy was having such a hard time, he would have reached out. She had saved his ass on that pirate ship, and he isn't one to go without repaying favours.

But so wrapped up in his own business, in the rapid current that is Panorama, he hadn't had the chance to. It hadn't even crossed his mind.

The slam of a body hitting the wall hard has the crowd suddenly surge forward and the uncharacteristic, strange clench of his chest makes him think for a split second that the fear he feels has to do with the fear of being suffocated by the crowd. His body moves without thinking. Pushing through the swell of bodies, he manages to fight his way to the front where he can finally get a good look at the fighters down below.

Harsh lights illuminate them so brightly and clearly (all the better to see injuries with, he supposes) and then he feels his chest clench tighter. Suddenly he's leaning over the bar, ignoring the pain that comes from being pushed from behind right into the place where he'd been stabbed. ]

Hey! Get up!

[ Whether or not she can hear him over the jeers and excitement of the crowd is anyone's guess but he has to try. The fear creeping at the edges of his mind demands it. ]

[chuju]

[ If she hears Cassian's voice, it doesn't register as his. Not yet. As she shakes her head in an attempt to clear the cartoon birdies spinning around it, Daisy catches snippets of dozens of words in so many different voices, all of them jumbled together into a chaotic mess.

Twice, she tries to get her feet under her. Twice, her opponent swoops in, kicking her to keep her down. There aren't rules of conduct here, and she's always known that her next match in the ring might be her last. That possibility comes crashing down on her now, and as she feels the blur of motion a second before the other woman slows down, Daisy screams, a deep guttural sound to accompany the concussive wave that erupts out of her to push back her opponent, no matter which direction she comes from. The wave lifts the woman up and flings her back into the wall with a sickening crunch that Daisy feels in the pit of her stomach.

The bell dings and the announcer calls the winner of the match, but she doesn't care. She doesn't stick around to see what happens next, nor to find out if she'd just killed that woman. The instinct to run and find somewhere safe is gripping her so tightly that there's no resisting, and so she does just that, escaping through the side door and rushing out of the building without even stopping for her night's payment. She can't breathe here, fear and panic threatening to drown her while she's kicking and reaching for the surface. Even when she bursts out into the brightly lit open night air, she can't convince her heart to stop racing.

She needs to get somewhere safe. But the only place that feels safe is home, and that's the one place she can never return to. ]

[diametrically]

[ It would be impossible to hear him with how overcome and enthralled the crowd has become with bloodlust but he felt compelled to call out to her in that moment. All it ends up becoming is one worried, fearful voice out of many who certainly don't share the sentiments at him.

But where he does hold some similarities to the crowd is that he is transfixed on the fight, albeit in a slightly different way. Even from up here he can tell she's panicking. He hasn't seen her fight before but he's gathered enough about her to know that it wouldn't be sporadic and jerky, like someone who is quite literally fighting for their lives in a frantic way.

And then he feels the vibration of the floor shake beneath his feet. The pirate ship - he realizes he's felt his before and something in his bones tells him it has to be Daisy. When he shouts again, it has nothing to do with warning her. It's to try and get her opponent away from her - but then of course, it's too late. Panic floods his chest, pressing down hard like a weight he can't throw off and that fear, that terror, isn't for the woman that gets thrown across the ring like a ragdoll.

It's for Daisy. Daisy who bolts from the ring as the place erupts once more in glee for a life lost.

Cassian doesn't recall how he ends up finding his way out, but he's tugged towards her like a beacon. And when he finds her, he calls her name first before slowly approaching her feeling the racing of her heart from here. ]

Daisy?

[chuju]

[ How much time has passed since she broke free into the open air and sank down against the wall of the building, completely ignoring anyone who passes by? Distantly, she knows it's dangerous to just stay there. What if someone comes by wanting to settle a score? She's in no condition to defend herself, not when she feels like she's about to break apart or scream or cry at any moment. Probably all three at once, with her luck.

That familiar voice tugs her attention out of the chaotic fog in her mind, and she turns her frightened gaze to an equally familiar face. Cassian. It only takes that one look for her to feel that sense of a connection found, and she realizes that this place has fucked with her yet again. Something in the roller-coaster cocktail of emotions has come from him. Part of her wants to rage about it, to shove him away from her and demand answers he very likely doesn't have—

But a much louder part of her wants to grab hold of him and not let go until the nightmare stops. (Will it ever stop?) She pulls in a trembling breath and fails miserably at hiding the fear and anguish from her expression. ]

What are you doing here? [ The shaking syllables are steadfastly ignored. If she doesn't acknowledge it, maybe he won't either. ]

[diametrically]

[ If she had taken out her rage on him a part of Cassian - all of him actually - wouldn't have blamed her. On same level he understands what it's like to have choice taken away from him. The choice of where he's going, who's going with him, of having parts of yourself bared to the world when they're the most tender parts of you that very few, if no one else, has ever seen against your will. These last several days have felt far too much like the latter and it's a part of himself that, whether consciously or not, he's done his best to distance himself from. 

Weariness and guilt and worry ate at his bones, but they were all things he denied because it was easier to continue fighting that way. 

Faintly he wonders if that's why he had mistaken Daisy's feelings for his own. ]

I don't know. 

[ And as awful an answer as that is, he hopes that she can discern how it's the truth. Still he doesn't move from his own spot, not wanting to until she gave her consent for that. ] 

Maybe for a similar reason as you. 

[chuju]

[ Is anything they do under their own control here? From the moment they were brought to this awful place, have they truly had the ability to make their own choices? Or has something been orchestrating their thoughts and feelings like some sort of twisted puppetry, and they're only just now starting to see the strings?

Leaning her head back against the wall, she pulls in a few slow breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She used to be better at this. She'd trained for this. Keep your body calm during a mission so you can do what needs to be done. But this isn't a mission; this is what her life has become, and that's so much harder. ]

You miss home. [ That's what she'd felt from him, isn't it? A wave of homesickness that had surged through her, where hers was usually a steady undercurrent she carried with her every day. ]

[diametrically]

And you're hurting.

[ There's no point in trying to hide what he's feeling or soften the reality of what they're both going through. It's clear that this isn't the first time either of them have encountered this, that this isn't the first time that either of them have had to grapple with the feeling of being exposed to strangers or in this case, people that they knew.

The acknowledgement of what they're both feeling settles heavy in the air around them, juxtaposed and strange against the faint cheers from inside the dome as the next fight begins.

Eventually he motions to the spot beside her on the ground. ]

May I?

[chuju]

[ There is no part of her that wants to send him away. The logical but self-deprecating part of her brain says that she should, that it's better he not be burdened by her mess of emotions, but that damage has already been done. He knows what lurks underneath the I'm fine mask that she wears in public, so what's the harm in letting her guard down a little more and accepting the companionship he's offering? ]

Please. [ She doesn't expect the genuine pleading in that single word, but she doesn't try to play it off. He knows the ache she's carrying around inside, and she just doesn't have the energy to fight it.

But speaking of fights... ]

Were you inside for my fight? [ Is that how he'd found her so quickly, or had he been looking for her for longer than that? ]

[diametrically]

[ He tries not to dwell too long on how that one word sounds like a plea and how it tears at the edges of his heart. That would serve neither of them.

With her permission he settles himself beside her with just enough room that their shoulders brush up against one another. The ground and the wall are by no means comfortable, but in that moment they feel like the most supportive things in the world and for a brief moment, tension leaves his body as he gazes out blankly towards the parking lot. ]

Yeah. Should I not have been?

[chuju]

[ It feels nice to have him there beside her. Close enough to feel the vibration of his breathing if she focuses, to sense the solid mass of him. His presence is steady, serving almost as an anchor in the storm trying to surge within her again, and she embraces the comfort he offers without words. They might not have known each other for very long, and certainly not well in the grand scheme of things, but she trusts him just the same.

Shrugging, her shoulder moves against his and she glances halfway toward him, just enough to see him better in her peripheral. ]

Did I kill her? [ Not is she dead? or some other phrasing that could be interpreted with Daisy as a victim. What happened may not have been entirely intentional, but her actions were still her own.

Her hands tighten where they're wrapped around her knees. Please let her actions still be her own. ]

[diametrically]

[ In hindsight his question is a stupid one. It's just something to help break up the heaviness of the air around them. Or an attempt at it anyway. They've established that they've both been drawn here by the gravity of something larger than the Dome, of something that neither of them particularly like or want.

He feels the weight of her gaze shift towards him. Notices the way that she frames her question and how there is fault pointed at herself woven between those words. From the corner of his eye he sees the way her hands grip her knees, feels the guilt and fear ripple across the tether binding them together.

Cassian shifts, his gaze meeting hers. As much as he wants to lie to her he knows that he can't. Daisy will know. And, he thinks, trying to soften the blow will only be doing her a disservice. ]

It was quick. But she knew what the risk was stepping into that ring. All the fighters here do.

[chuju]

[ She appreciates that frank honesty more than he could know. Trying to shield her from the truth would do no one any good, and she would just be angry about it later if sbe found out he tried to protect her from the truth of her own actions. This is her burden to bear. ]

I didn't mean to. [ The whispered confession doesn't deny what she's done, only clarifies the intent behind it. Her throat tightens and she looks away again, her gaze firmly on her hands on her knees. ] I've tried not to cause too much damage in my fights, even if it meant I lost. But this...

[ She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. ] It was just too much. I was feeling too much and I lost control. That hasn't happened in a long time. [ She's made sure of it. ]

[diametrically]

[ Short of asking her there's no way for him to know what she's been through leading up to this moment - but he's not sure that it's the kindest thing to do. It's in part why he told her. A part of him knew that if he didn't, she'd seek out the answer herself. Nor would she have to look very hard to find it.

And though he knows it was the right choice, it doesn't feel like it. Not with her downcast gaze and guilt-ridden whisper.

Their shared emotions are hardly necessary in this moment because he knows what it's like to kill someone and the weight that it carries - intentional or not. He's never thought himself good at trying to comfort people in moments like these because he's never been good at absolving himself from his own actions. Even if sometimes it had been necessary.

Though Daisy's gaze retreats his stays trained on her. ]

I trust you. [ And there's a sincerity there. An understanding. ] This week hasn't been normal. What we've experienced - it would have affected anyone.

[ Himself included. ]

[chuju]

[ That guilt is going to eat away at her in the coming weeks; it's inevitable. In the same way the deaths and torture she was forced to dole out under Hive's sway still haunt her, this will be added to the arsenal of nightmares shuffled through each time she closes her eyes.

I trust you. The emotions ricocheting between them aren't enough to get her to look at him again, but those words are. After what he just witnessed in there, he trusts her? Even her team, her family, had been afraid of her in those first weeks after learning what she was and what she could do.

A wave of overwhelming affection rises up in her and she swallows thickly, watching him with hope and the slightest bit of apprehension. He isn't just be saying that, she knows it, but the part of her that has and always will fear rejection is worried. ]

Thank you, Cassian. [ Quiet, but the most sincere. She truly is grateful. ]

[diametrically]

[ Killing people isn't easy. Anyone who says it is is lying, or truly gets some sick twisted pleasure out of it. The latter is ruled out and the former, well. If Daisy had denied it, he would have been able to call her on her bluff.

Even without these emotional sponge powers, Cassian knew enough to trust his gut that she wasn't the sort to take any pleasure out of it. And he knew from experience that the weight of killing someone - anyone - is something that would catch up with everyone eventually in some way, shape, or form.

The corners of his lips twitch upwards for a brief moment though there's no real humor or anything to do it. The thanks doesn't feel deserved because while he means it there's nothing he can do to really help alleviate the burden from her. He has no special powers, no way to turn back the clock to talk her out of coming here.

His gaze shifts back towards the parking lot. ]

...I'm sorry for showing up when I did. It might have made things worse.

[chuju]

[ Some deaths affect her more than others. The countless Hydra agents who were actively trying to kill her and her friends? She remembers what it felt like to be the one to shoot them, that weight pressing down on her chest, but she doesn't mourn their loss. But someone like Gideon Malick, a monster whose presence the world is better off without? His death haunts her nightmares because she'd had no choice in the matter. She can remember feeling pleasure at the cracking of his bones, and it makes her sick.

Reaching a gauntlet-covered hand over to his arm, she gently touches her bare fingers to him, wanting to be sure she has his attention even if he isn't looking at her. It's important he knows she isn't upset with him for this. That she appreciates his being here, even if it may have made things more difficult. ]

I'd rather have it be someone I know and trust. [ There's no helping the bitterness that colors her next words. ] Someone I know isn't doing this on purpose.

[diametrically]

[ Having deaths stain his hands but not mourning them is something he can relate to. In many cases the Imperials he'd killed in defense of himself or those around him would have done the same to him without a second thought. And in the cases where that was true, well. He had to think that because otherwise it's possible that he wouldn't be here. Hesitation in a fight only got you killed.

But the thought of doing something like that is still several days away for him. Right now he's all but focused on Daisy and the feelings that seem to still swirl between them palpably.

Her light touch draws his gaze back towards her. There's barely time to register that she says she trusts him let alone think about how he feels about that. Allusion to this happening to her before has him stilling. ]

This has happened to you before?

[chuju]

[ Of course, he would ask. That's who they are, isn't it? She'd recognized when they first met that he's the type to ask questions and observe, the same way she is. For him to not notice the anvil-sized clues that something had happened to her would be more surprising than anything.

Usually, she wouldn't want to talk about it. Even back home, she never really talked about what happened, just kept it all locked up tight where it was less likely to do more damage. But now she's here and she can feel that need to keep things bottled up slowly start to come undone. Is that because of what's happening now, or is it something about Cassian himself that makes it so easy to share things with him? ]

Something like it. [ She returns her hands to her knees and leans her head back against the wall before taking a deep breath. ] It was an Inhuman like me. He could get into your brain, make you feel things...

[ It doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess they weren't all good things she'd been forced to feel.]

[diametrically]

[ How could he not when it feels like the right thing to do? It isn't to satiate his curiosity. Although, if he's being honest with himself, a part of him doesn't know why he needs to know. It isn't as if he can fix anything that's happened to her in the past, nor does she need saving because that isn't what she's asking for. So then why does he feel the need to know?

Maybe, a distant part of him thinks, because sometimes knowing and understanding is sharing part of someone else's burden. Easier to chalk it up to that than some mysterious force that's pulled them here together.

All the same hearing it makes his jaw tighten, makes something prickle at the back of his neck akin to the feeling he gets whenever he's faced with an injustice. There's a part of him that wants to apologize even though it isn't his fault or hers. Instead he unclenches his jaw and draws in a slight breath. ]

Someone told me once we're stronger for the things we've been through. It seemed like bantha shit to me at the time but...I think it's true. Especially for you.

[chuju]

[ Daisy tries not to overthink why she feels better for sitting there talking with Cassian like this. If she doesn't go with the easiest assumption of this being something innately therapeutic, then she'll just end up spiraling over everything possibly being because of whatever is forcing their emotions upon each other. It might very well be that, but if she goes too far off the deep end, she worries she might never come back from it.

So, therapy, then. And it really does feel a bit like that. It's been a long while since she was able to have a conversation like this with someone who doesn't know her entire life story. Not since Sousa and their connection that was just getting started when she ended up here. But that was months ago now, and she's so tired of feeling alone all the time.

His words resonate through her, bringing up a torrent of emotional responses before they all fade into the background of her weariness. ]

Then I must be damn near indestructible by now. [ It's a bad joke, but it's all she's got. She offers him an apologetic smile that could have been a grimace in another life. ] Sorry.

[diametrically]

[ Cassian is not so arrogant to think that his pep talks are always going to be effective. He doesn't have a way with words like Nemik did. But it would be impossible for him to deny that the work he'd been doing for the rebellion hadn't been working. In some cases, his words strike a chord. But instilling hope, stoking embers into a small flame, is different than comfort.

So colour him surprised when he feels how it effects her.

Bad joke or not he understands an attempt at levity when he sees it. And if it helps at all, she receives a breathy laugh in return for her efforts. ]

That feels like a better power than anything else I've encountered.

[ The laugh fades, replaced with that same somewhat serious expression from before. It's hard for him not to sound like he's speaking from experience, but the line that tethers them perhaps alludes to the contrary. A part of him hopes that it gets lost in the tidal wave of her own emotions. ]

I know you call people like you Inhumans but I think feeling afraid is the most human thing you can feel. Whoever it was that made you feel this way - you're nothing like them.

[chuju]

[ It doesn't matter that he isn't speaking from experience. She feels that tug along their connection but doesn't pay it much attention. There had been plenty of times over the years when Coulson had given his inspirational talks that were purely aspirational or anecdotal, but they'd still held about truth to hit the way he intended. Cassian has that same ability to win over someone with his words alone.

But there's too much going on for those words to fully work their magic now. Her emotions shift like a stormy sea, from the spike of bristled pride at the lack of understanding of Inhumans that she should really be used to by now, to the steady pulse of fear at the assertion that she's nothing like Hive, to the despair at not being able to accept his final words. ]

Some days, I don't know what I am.

[ Her hands tremble slightly from the fading adrenaline in her system from the match and her terrified flight from the building, but her fingers work at the straps of her gauntlets despite the difficulty. She needed them off. ]

Hive was like a parasite. He infected you with part of himself, so you were connected, so when you were told to do something, you loved him for it, no matter what it was. [ Why is she telling him this? Daisy can't look at him while she speaks and bares her soul. ] I killed for him. I turned on my friends. And when I lost my connection to him, I begged for it back because I felt so alone.

[ It was the most shameful moment of her life, and one she's never spoken of before. That in itself is enough to make her worried. ]

[diametrically]

[ There's no offence taken when he feels the shift of her emotions turn like the waves on the sea. How this only affirms to him that sometimes words are not enough to change the tide of something that feels bigger than them.

He's known all his life what it's like to be othered. Even if Ferrix had come to accept him as one of their own, it was never lost on him that he had come from a place far, far, away and that everything he had known no longer served him on that rocky planet. And beyond that there was more to contend with. A much larger governing body that was intent on having the galaxy conform to what they thought was right.

The Empire isn't Hive. But he can understand, at least on a base level, the pain, the hurt, the things that haunt her - even without the tether.

He quietly listens and as soon as she finishes, he motions for her hand. And if she allows it, he begins to quietly undo the straps of her gauntlet before moving onto the next. ]

But this...Hive. He affected did that to you. Manipulated you. That wasn't you, Daisy. [ He pauses, pausing in his action. ] And you aren't alone.