july 2019. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: First Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of July 2019
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.

Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.

Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.

a. bot party.

A few hours after the first arrivals, odd noises start to filter up from the pavilion and park at the base of the city. Limp whistles, the gunfire pop of small fireworks, and music from what sounds like a broken kazoo. It seems as though the still-functioning robots of Anchor are trying to welcome their new human overlords, based on programming that hasn't been exercised in... uh, shall we say "a while"?

Three of them have formed a tiny off-key band playing unfamiliar tunes from crackling speakers. One of the three punctuates the music at odd moments by smashing together a pair of cymbals that seem to have been constructed from a flattened pot and a trash can lid. Two others man the refreshments table. Some of the food looks downright inedible, but there are piles of wild berries from the upper floors. Raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, strawberries. Apples and cherries. Fruits that shouldn't be in season together but somehow still are. There's a strange and vaguely triangular pastry that tastes like hot cinnamon candy. There are piles of vegetables, too, though the only preparation they've had is to be washed and dumped in baskets.

One of the chef bots has put some work in, though, and there are a couple of stews and soups available for the adventurous. All of them are made with the raw ingredients available to eat on the tables. One of them even has meat in it, though that's best consumed by people with very hardy stomachs.

At the end of the refreshment table is a cluster of fresh-pressed juices and unlabeled alcohol bottles, with uneven stacks of cups stationed around them. (Careful, some of the cups are cracked.) Even the good old bar bot is doing his part, pouring out glasses of orange juice and straight shots of tequila. A very generous compromise in place of his usual tequila sunrises. Right? Right.

The most conspicuous robot is the one setting off fireworks. It’s already blown off one six-fingered hand, but by god that hasn’t stopped it. With every small cluster of colorful explosives, the thing throws back its chunky head and gives a sound that can only be described as a metallic cackle.

Might want to watch that guy.

b. life signs in the wasteland.

In the wee hours of the morning after the robots' attempted welcome, the impacts against the dome overhead start. Meteorites, some of them as large as a person's head, bombard the shield and the area around for miles. The alarms that start throughout the colony are enough to wake anyone up, if the thunderous noise of the cosmic storm wasn't enough to do it.

And the alarms aren't for the meteorites. The red shift is rising up around the colony, that phenomenon that no one from the past had the foresight to give more than vague warnings about. New residents who have done some digging will know exactly what’s going on, but for those who’ve avoided even thinking about what’s happened to them, well. It could be a nasty surprise.

Anyone sensible would stay inside with all of that going on, but there's something else: life signs. The communication devices given to residents on arrival light up, indicating the presence of no less than five flecks of life out there in the wastes. Odds are good that at least a few of them are monsters from other worlds, or twisted radioactive creatures warped by the planet itself. But one of them is very human, and has been here for a very long time.

Should residents venture out to investigate these life signs, they’ll find the farthest one to be a man in protective gear, flickering like a badly received signal. As the red shift starts to fade, he solidifies, and as the shift finally dies away, he wrenches off his helmet with one hand and falls to his knees. He's as twisted as the creatures the planet has corrupted, one eye socket nothing but a depression sealed by flesh. His lips on that side curves sharply upward, barely hiding teeth too sharp and long for a human mouth. It's clear now while he pulled off his helmet with one hand--the other is a wreck, a blackened stony mass sealed to the cuff of his radiation suit.

He can hear you coming, if you're brave enough to approach. He can hear you coming, and will turn his one orange-irised eye to watch you until you speak.

c. hairy repairs.

Welcome to Anchor, where sometimes you're the only thing between you and the catastrophic failure of life support systems. After the red shift ends, the radioactivity warning alarms will at least fall silent. The cosmic storm has passed, and for a little while there's quiet under the dome.

But those exploring the upper reaches of the city might hear new alarms, much softer and less insistent than the radiation alarms. They're coming from one of the survey rooms near the garage and the exits to the surface. It might take a little doing to pull up the screens triggering the alarms, but you'll be glad you put in the work. It turns out, those meteorites damaged several of the exterior sensors and one of the major radiation and light transfer panels that help keep anchor supplied with energy--and help keep the shield dome in good working order.

While the damage is easy to see and isn't too hard to fix for those with some technical know-how, there are life signs moving slowly closer to the colony. It's quite possible to fix the damage and get back inside before those life signs arrive, but there's also the risk of being caught in the open and facing down some of the planet's native creatures.

In this case, they're large, furry millipede-like creatures no less than seven feet long. They're perfectly harmless, if you don't count the fact that they seem intent on trying to eat the protective gear and tools you've brought out onto the surface with you. It's not their fault that your arms are inside those delicious radiation suits.

d. shadows of the past.

A few days of genuine quiet follow the fixing of the exterior damage. Time to explore, to get lost, to drink more than your doctor might recommend at the colony's only serviceable bar. Enough time to feel the weight of Anchor's emptiness.

The next time you walk into the bar, there's a see-through stranger at the pool table, smiling warmly in welcome. "Want a game?"

Get too close, and he disappears. But he was there--he was clearly there. The cue he was holding clatters to the ground and rolls over to rest at your feet.

Down in the pavilion, there are children playing in the park. Throwing balls, playing tag, their laughs echoing somehow in the open air. Invisible parents call for them to be careful or slow down. Now and then one of them will vanish midstep, only to appear again back where they were ten minutes ago and start their run through the park all over again. They can see you. One or two might even invite you to join their games, taking your hand in their own, leading you toward their fellows. And when they do, you can hear their parents' voices exclaiming in shock. A rush of shadows scoop up these phantom children and whisk them away into some invisible world where you can't follow, only hear the children crying in fear.

All around the colony, shades appear and vanish, some solid enough to touch, some just barely visible. Some are inexplicably aggressive, attacking anyone who tries to talk to them or get too close. Just as many run screaming or sobbing at the sight of you.

But there are others, too, who seem to recognize you. One of these is a young woman holding a gun like she has no idea how to use it. When approached, she almost starts to cry. "Oh, thank god. We have to get the kids to quarantine. We have to get them into lockdown. Those bastards-- Those sons of bitches-- The kids should at least have a chance."

She starts to turn, and a laser blast rips through her, lancing across the wall right where a deep score mark still exists, not in the least ghostly or unreal. If you touch it now, it feels warm.

e. ping from the rubble.

As though the presence of past residents sets it off, a persistent signal begins to broadcast from the collapsed library. It turns out there's a section not buried quite as deeply as the rest. A row of broken terminals, ending with the one sending the signal. A warning signal about the structural integrity of the library complex and the need to back up crucial data. Too little, too late, but with time and patience some of the partial files on the terminal could be reconstructed....

For those less versed in computers, there's a mysterious door just past the terminals, partially blocked off by rubble. If that can be cleared, the door leads into a dusty room with more broken terminals, but beyond that, there's a small library of real hardcover and paperback books, with comfortable chairs (some of them needing TLC), low tables, and lights (currently broken). The books are in a variety of languages, both Earth-based and alien. A flickering "skylight" at the top of the room shows a blue sky flanked by swaying trees, or a thunderstorm, or other, stranger but still friendly skies. It blinks off, sometimes, but seems determined to keep playing its peaceful scenes for those below. With some cleaning up, this could be a good retreat from the sometimes oppressive emptiness of Anchor.

Navigation.

Comments

[benhargreeves]

The difficulty isn't that Cole's answer is lacking in information: there is so much information in it, and Ben is still groggy from being woken suddenly. There are parts that start to make sense more quickly than others - this guy knows Klaus which is how he knows Ben's name, and that he has, as Cole so delicately puts it, 'heavy offensive capabilities'. It even explains how Cole knows he used to be a ghost.

The rest of it is a little more challenging to unpack. There's a lot implied there that Ben files away to mull over later. At least some good (arguably) had come from all that training as a kid: he knows how to prioritize.

"Okay, um, Cole. How do you know there are things out there that would attack us?"

He asks in a hypothetical, as if he hasn't decided yet if he will help. But his heart is racing, and he thinks about those signals on the devices. Thinks about the person out there, trapped, in danger. Apparently even more danger than Ben had realized. And Ben knows all too well you can't just assume someone else will take responsibility and help. If there are dangerous creatures, anyone who tried might get hurt, or die. So it wouldn't just be one person in peril on his conscience, but who knows how many...

[killedwithlove]

Cole tends towards too much or too little with no real idea of where middle ground is. He turns to look elsewhere, briefly distracted and that sure is a knife sheath on his back, two long, sharp knives clearly for combat crossed over his upper back.

"Um.... vacant voids, pin point pressures pushing, there's no compassion. How do you know how to call Them out?"

There's an answer in there to be unpacked, but Cole can't explain it any better.

"There's someone out there. He needs help. We can help."

[benhargreeves]

The answer shouldn't make any sense. Ben's aware of that, on some kind of intellectual level. But as soon as Cole speaks, he understands, on a gut level, that Cole is comparing how he is sensing whoever is outside to how Ben accesses his powers (calls Them). He recoils from that understanding, his brain briefly looking for some other, more mundane explanation for Cole's words. But the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up. And for some reason - gut instinct, intuition - Ben actually believes him. He's seen plenty of crazy people in his day, rambling about their delusions. This... doesn't feel like that.

And how is he supposed to refuse, when Cole whittles away all the surrounding questions and puts it so simply? Someone needs help. Ben can help. If he doesn't, who will? Letting out a slow breath, trying to ignore the sudden surge of terror he feels rising up in his stomach, Ben nods.

"Okay. Okay, I'll do it. Just - give me a second."

Fumblingly, he pulls the communication device from his pocket, sends a quick message to Klaus saying he'd met someone named Cole who claimed to know him, that someone needs help on the surface and he's going to go rescue them. He promises, half-joking half-serious, to do his best not to die again.

Then he tucks the device away and looks at Cole, seeing those knives at Cole's back again and saying, "Not that fragile, looks like." And he gestures briefly towards the weapons.

They will need radiation suits, at the very least, so Ben nods in the direction of the place where they are stored. As they set off he says, "I'm not interested in becoming a ghost again, so don't get any funny ideas about trying to stab me or anything, alright?"

[killedwithlove]

"It's all right to be scared. Nadezhda told me that. So did Rhys. That it's okay to be scared, so long as you don't let the fear control you. When fear controls you, that's when bad things are allowed to happen. Things like the Chantry massacres. Like the White Violin."

Cole slides off his knife harness to put on the suit and it's clear that this is something familiar in some way, maybe from a book, but not in practice. "I'm fragile, not like Nadezhda, or Evangeline, or Cassandra. Or The Iron Bull, he was really, really tough. Even more than Luther. I know how to kill, quick, clean, but that doesn't make me less fragile."

He looks at Ben, dead in the eye. "I will only ever kill you if your desire to be cruel outweighs who you are. I don't think that will happen. You're not cruel. You don't want to make the world hurt. And you don't want to die. I help people who want to die, too."

Just fyi.

[benhargreeves]

Ben feels his first prickle of annoyance at that, half at Cole, half at Klaus. Just what had he told this strange, creepy dude about their family? About their sister's crisis? Of course, Ben didn't like that she'd had a breakdown and tried to end the world via violin concert, had maybe succeeded at it. But what business is that of Cole's? And who does he think he is, just pronouncing that he knows what caused it, as if it were as simple as one thing that could have been easily fixed?

And how, how had Cole known the precise moment when he started to feel fear? Even as he is pulling on the radiation suit, checking all the fastenings, all the systems, making sure it will keep him protected, Ben can feel that fear begin to shift. He'd mostly been joking about Cole stabbing him, earlier. Now, though. The way he talks about killing... it raises goosebumps across Ben's skin.

He shouldn't poke at this, he thinks. There's only the possibility for danger here, and no gain. Yet, as they finish suiting up, Ben isn't just dreading whatever monsters and dangers are beyond the door. He is standing a little distance away from Cole, wary, second-guessing his choices. In front of the airlock that will lead them outside, into the chaos, he stops and speaks, voice transmitted to Cole through the comms in their suits, "And you think you've got the right to make that call about other people? Who's good, who's bad, who deserves to die? I mean - I mean - and you don't know if I'm cruel or not. You don't know anything about me."

The Academy had had its detractors. Their father had been utterly indifferent, and Pogo had tried to keep it from them, but the world crept in. Ben knew there were those who questioned whether the Umbrella Academy were the real villains, and he was always at the top of the list for reasons why. The worst part was not being able to disagree with them, any time they called him an abomination, a monster, a horror. It was true, after all. If Cole knew how many living things Ben had killed, would he decide it outweighed Ben's right to stay alive?

[killedwithlove]

Cole can fear Ben's fear... and his anger.

It tastes like Rhys' betrayal, not as strong, not as sharp and bitter and cutting. Cole has a better grasp of who he is, what he is, and Ben is a stranger (no one's a stranger) and not his sole, beloved companion.

It still hurts.

"I don't decide who is good or bad. It's not about that. It's about the desire to cause harm. Your father made you loose them- 'Control them, Number Six, they are beasts and you are their master'-" And Cole flings himself away from Ben, clutching his head, the brief mimicry of Sir Reginald cracking at the end. "I'm Cole. I was Compassion. Mercy. Nearly Despair. I want to be Compassion, but I'm Cole, and being Cole is mostly good but it means that it all has context and meaning and it hurts to know because I'm Cole, not Compassion, please stop asking, I can't think past you if you keep asking, telling, raw on the edges, so much feeling, it's not like death, death is cold and numb compared to-" He makes a small, wounded animal noise. "Please. I just want to help. I can't help like this."

[benhargreeves]

The moment that Cole quotes his father - his exact words, just the way he would say them, Ben freezes, rooted to the spot where he is standing. It's been so long since he had a body, since he felt that sudden swoop of fear, adrenaline spilling into his system. His heartbeat is quick and his face flushes slightly, but there is no time to focus on any of this, because Cole is reeling away from him. He seems hurt, clutching at his head, and suddenly it clicks for Ben. How Cole could speak about his powers the way he did, know that person outside needs rescue, know things he shouldn't know. He should have guessed it sooner, as someone with powers himself. Cole's just... must allow him to see into people's heads, and memories.

Ben wouldn't wish his memories on anyone.

He takes a step closer, cautious but concerned. All the anger is gone, the fear pushed aside by urgent worry. Because Cole had been right: Ben isn't cruel, doesn't want to hurt people. He might not understand what Cole's deal is precisely, but it's clear Ben's question had hurt him, a lot. He reaches over a hand to touch Cole's shoulder, and the gesture feels clumsy through the anti-radiation suits.

"Hey hey hey, I'm sorry, I won't ask anymore questions. Just take a deep breath, Cole..."

Two possibilities seem equally likely to Ben: that Cole was a normal person with powers - some cocktail of mind-reading, empathy, sensing people's intentions - who has been driven half-mad by them. Or perhaps these other names - Compassion, Mercy, are other entities, from some different dimension, possessing and controlling him, in a way that has been harmful to the person they were trying to use. Or perhaps some combination, or perhaps something else entirely. But whatever it is, it doesn't seem like a lot of fun.

"We can help. Let's go out and find this person and help them, okay? You still up for that?"

[killedwithlove]

Sadly, while the words and touch help, the idelt wondering doesn't, because possession is a heavy thing in Thedas and it was an argument that had been had over Cole in Skyhold as they debated killing him. "Not possessing! I'm not an abomination, I'm me, I was Compassion, then Cole, then Mercy. I'm not possessing Cole, I became Cole, when Cole died, but I'm still me too. I'm not an abomination."

He looks up, and his eyes are bright, there's almost a soft light to them. Almost. "I'm Compassion. I know what hurts and heals. Minds, souls, things, speaking, feeling, remembering and I remember with them, feel with them, listen to them. So I can help. And him, out there, he needs help, because it's warping, twisting, so alien that it can't be anywhere but a middle ground with the other. He needs our help. Help me help him, Ben. Please."

[benhargreeves]

Well that answered several questions. First, he's not being possessed. Second, Cole can definitely read his mind - not just in a distant way that involves nebulous empathy, but immediately and precisely. Which isn't exactly great for anyone, but is particularly not the best for Ben, who had always treasured the privacy of being the only one who knew what was going on inside him. They'd all responded in different ways, to the environment they grew up in. Ben had invested time and energy into silence, and self-control, and his mask.

But it is what it is, and he's not going to let himself think about how creeped out he is by having his thoughts laid open to a stranger to see. Another thing he'd had to learn, at the Academy, was how to compartmentalize. So he puts that away for now. Puts away the curiosity. Puts away the fear. Puts away everything else. Finds a small smile, and a little joke, "I never said you were. Looks like we both know if either of us is an abomination, it's totally me." Humor helped, sometimes, for some people. To deal with everything when it got too terrible.

Ben doesn't like the sound of warping and twisting, but he squares his shoulders. This is what he wanted, all those years he was dead. An opportunity to have an impact again. To save people, and do the right thing, and make it all worth it.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's go help him. Together."

[killedwithlove]

"I'm sorry," Cole whispers. "I can't stop it. I can pretend I don't hear it though?" He literally can't stop being what he is and what he is knows all these things, interacts in ways that mortals don't understand.

"You're not an abomination. They're not spirits or demons and they don't want to live in your body with you- Oh. Abomination is a very specific thing in Thedas. Spirits living in mortals with them. It's not allowed. It's not healthy, for either." He looks at Ben cautiously. "Yeah? We can do that? You want to do that?"

[benhargreeves]

Ben can compartmentalize, but he cannot rein in his thoughts entirely; when Cole apologizes, offers to pretend he isn't hearing what he's hearing, it's impossible not to think of Klaus. To feel the same wrench of concern and sadness Ben feels any time he thinks about how his brother's powers have hounded him all his life. He shakes his head, within that anti-radiation suit.

"If you can't help it, you can't help it. Why lie?"

Perhaps, if there is anyone else in this place who is from the same place as Cole (Thedas, it would seem?), they can explain to Ben sometime just what all this stuff about spirits and demons and possession really is. But he keeps in mind Cole's words, that he can't do what he has to if Ben keeps asking questions. So he lets it be for now.

"No, I don't want to. I want to go back to my room and hide until all this-" he gestures to the door that will lead them to the outside, indicating the red shift, the meteors, the monsters, the stranger in need of distress, "-is over. But I'm not going to. 'Cause this is the right thing to do."

Responsibility. It means something, to Ben. And he has a lot of practice setting aside his own comfort and wants, in favor of his duty. In fact, doing the opposite would probably be more difficult. Ben checks that Cole is steady enough, that he doesn't look on the verge of another imminent breakdown, before pressing the button on the panel that will lead them into the airlock.

"If anything attacks us, just make sure you give me enough space, okay?"

Cole should understand what he means, Ben thinks. With the exception of his panicked intervention at the concert hall, it's been a long time since Ben used his powers. His ability to control them, to direct and limit their violence, was always partial. He needs a healthy buffer of space, to feel certain of Cole's safety.

[killedwithlove]

Cole is calmed down, certainly enough to function. Ben's not angry or upset, not projecting those emotions at him and therefore he can cope with it.

"I'll be out of your way. And Theirs." It's a promise. He's used to dodging fireballs, lightning strikes and Bull's weapons, but he knows to get back and let Them do their thing. "I'm not alive like mortals are, so they might not be interested in me, but I won't risk myself. Promise."

[benhargreeves]

Cole knowing that Ben's powers, the creatures that reach through him, react differently to living things (prey) than they do to non-living things is just one more detail that's getting packaged tightly away, set into a corner of his mind to deal with later. Ben draws in a deep breath, shoulders squared. They've already wasted enough time; someone is out their on their own, and probably terrified, and it's time to go get them.

"You're leading the way. Let's make this as quick as we safely can."

He hits the button to open the door to the surface, braced for attack. He has no idea how many of the rumors he's heard about these so-called red shifts are true, but he thinks he's about to find out. There's a coiling of fear and anticipation in his gut that he hasn't felt in a long, long time. Ben sticks close by Cole's side, not wanting to get lost or separated.

[killedwithlove]

"Okay. You need to keep pace, I don't tire." It's warning, but also true. Cole will start running and be able to keep up that lazy lope for hours at a time. "I will keep moving like a mortal, I'll try to remember to walk and run and not just move."

He nods firmly and they step out together.

Cole can feel the red shift. It tears at him like a rift would, screams like the Blight and sings like Despair and Guilt. In a way, it makes him think of Solas, facets and fragments of some chaotic, overwhelming whole of which only tiny bits are visible at once.

But there's a real person out here. And there's others, heading out to help. "This way." He sets off at a lope, following the fear and suffering. "There's something like compassion out here. Sharp edges, second place compassion... same way. Person is this way!"

[benhargreeves]

Oh, running. Ben hasn't run while inside a body for a long time. He'd run after Klaus plenty as a ghosts, but it's a very different sort of process when you weigh nothing, have no blood, no lungs, no muscles. It's not an unpleasant sensation, jogging after Cole, but for a few moments Ben is caught up in the strangeness of it, how every part of his body seems to be involved in it.

Cole appears to know which way he's going; even if what he's saying doesn't make immediate sense, Ben follows in the direction he indicates. And for a while, a little while, there is nothing to bother them but the knowledge that they are outside, unprotected from radiation, and the storm, and the shift. But Cole had seemed so sure they would run into danger, that after only a little while Ben says, "Tell me if you sense anything else getting close, okay?"

Not that Cole needs to be told that, most likely, but Ben is staving off dread however he can. That is, until he sees the air just off to their left warp and an object drops to the ground a few feet away. It is, impossibly, surreally, the head of that stupid statue of him they'd put up at the Academy, the one that looks nothing like him. Ben watches it wink into existence, drop with a heavy thud, and then before he even has time to know how to react, it blinks out of existence again.

[killedwithlove]

The next rip and ripple of the red shift brings something far more terrible than a decapitated statue's head.

From the shift stumbles something massive, lopsided and jagged. It might have once been human sized and shape, but now it stands easily half a human again or more above them. It's limbs are elongated with red crystal and the mineral grows heavy from one shoulder and neck, down to the other side's arm which was club like with a huge, cutting edge that carved through the ground as it was dragged.

It gave off heat, almost steaming and smoking in the dust. It glows and when it looks at them and roars, light streams from its mouth and eye sockets.

Cole whips out his knives. "Kill him," he gasps. "Kill him, he's suffering, it hurts so bad, end it, please-" He flicks back two steps in a curl of smoke, putting himself behind Ben's shoulder. "We can't save him, only end it."

cw for gore

[benhargreeves]

Ben can tell that this thing is bad news from the moment it appears. You don't have to have whatever Cole's powers are to see the way the crystal has warped and distorted whoever the person used to be - a long long time ago from the looks of how wrecked their once-human shape is. It's giving off light and heat; Ben can see it shimmering in the air around it.

He freezes in place, and for one moment there is nothing but blind, full-body terror. He doesn't want to be here, he never wants to be here, why hadn't he run in the opposite direction? Why is he always letting himself get talked into going on the front line? His whole life it has been this, and nothing has changed at all.

But then Cole is speaking - pleading, really - saying how much suffering this monster is in and imploring Ben to end it. Ben's breaths are harsh over the communicators in the radiation suits, heart racing as Cole moves out from in between him and the thing he needs to kill. Training kicks in, and Ben braces himself for the pain as he throws open the portal. It doesn't help, of course. It never has. But it's a familiar agony, and Ben has to spend all his attention trying to control them as they come pouring out of him, ravenous and hateful. He doesn't think he's just forgotten how bad it was; all those years without Ben to use them, to let them out, has left his friends from the other side more vicious than ever. It's all he can do to point them in the direction of the behemoth, and the rest, they take care of. There is a struggle, and Ben can feel it when the monster cuts the tip off one of the tentacles with its club. It falls to the ground with a wet thud and is trampled underfoot as even more tentacles shoot through, wrestling with their opponent.

Ben knows it is all over as soon as they get a good grip. There's that awful moment of anticipation, and then they are pulling the creature apart, limb from limb. The radiation suit, at least, keeps any of the blood (which looks strange and rotted) from getting on Ben as it splashes in all directions. He lets them keep going, ripping at the remaining hunks of monsters until Ben is sure it is dead. Then he forces them back, inside himself and through, and slams the portal shut.

He only realizes, then, that he'd been screaming. Maybe the whole time, he's not sure. But he's light-headed and his throat feels raw. Awfully, the tattered pieces that are left of the behemoth do not immediately disappear, the way that the statue's head did. Neither does the severed bit of tentacle, which is coiling, half-mashed, in the dust.

Ben twists around to check that Cole is okay, wiping some of the gore from the face shield of the radiation suit so that he can see better. He really hopes these things can be washed thoroughly...

[killedwithlove]

The thing is...

It fights Ben and Ben lets Them loose and Cole stays there. Cole stays close, his hand on Ben's shoulder like he could drain the pain from him just by being there, feeling it with him, familiar in some awful, distant way that he can't quite remember from pulling through the Veil.

When Ben turns, Cole takes a half step back so he's not right there and gives a tiny, fragile and flickering smile. "You did the right thing. He was grateful it was over as he died. They always are."

[benhargreeves]

"What was that thing?"

Ben doesn't really care, but he asks as a smokescreen, to keep Cole from focusing on him for a moment while he pulls himself together. His voice is shaky and hoarse, his body trembling from head to foot. Ben keeps wiping blood and dust from the shield's visor as he tries to wrestle down the nausea and the terror, make it as quiet and small as he can. Normally, on missions, after he used his powers, he would just go quiet. Barely talk - or not talk at all - for a few hours, sometimes even a day or two. The others probably knew he wasn't alright, but they could only guess at what was going on inside, underneath the blank face and the silence.

But Cole can't benefit from that kind of shielding, and so Ben has to be okay faster than he's ever needed to, and he's so out of practice at it. He turns so he can't see that snipped bit of tentacle writhing, more and more slowly, on the ground. They don't have much time to waste.

"Which way?"

[killedwithlove]

"Red Templar Behemoth." Cole knows that Ben doesn't care, btu he wants a few moments to himself, to put himself back together, so Cole obliges and fills the space with words. "The Blight got into the lyrium and then they took the lyrium. Some of them react like that, become those things. They didn't know, they were tricked into it. They're grateful to be stopped and released, it's a mercy."

Cole reaches up and helps wipe the face shield clean, gestures slow and clear. "This way. Eudora's nearly reached Creepy Joe."

[benhargreeves]

It isn't until Cole helps out that Ben gets the shield clean enough to see through properly, and then the two of them set off in the direction Cole indicates. Moving helps, a little, and so does having a goal and a destination. Ben can hold off feeling any of it for a while, until they're back from their mission...

"It was something from your world?"

There are too many terms Ben doesn't know, at least not in context - templars, the blight, whatever lyrium is. Maybe sometime he will be able to sit down with Cole and actually understand. Maybe that's just not possible. But the important thing right now is that it was something Cole was familiar with. Which is now two pieces of evidence that the rumors about these red shifts are true. They bring things, from the worlds people came from. Objects like that statue. Beings, like that behemoth.

"Creepy Joe? Is that - a person?"

[killedwithlove]

"Yes. Templars, red lyrium, my world. I don't think the red lyrium is really from my world, but it's there now, deep in the cracks of the world and blossoming death and violence where it sprouts."

Cole hums and pauses to retune, to ignore that somewhere, in the distance, Pride has appeared and withered with the lack of people to feed it. "Mostly. Eudora's not really equipped to be out here. Diego will be upset if anything happens to her."

[benhargreeves]

Ben's immediate thought is, of course, the creatures on the other side of the portal. They live in another world - another dimension, maybe - but could encroach and invade through him in a similar way. They brought death and violence with them, too. And apparently, of the two forces, in this type of conflict at least, his otherworldly parasite was the more dangerous one.

It is only belatedly that Ben remembers Cole's powers, that his thoughts are bare and open, that he would have heard Ben drawing that comparison as clearly as if he said it aloud. But there is no way to keep his thoughts controlled one hundred percent of the time. Or, if there is, he doesn't have the training for it.

Ben's not familiar with the name Eudora, and so it's a little shock of surprise when Cole mentions his brother - and not the one he's apparently met before. If someone else is out here and improperly equipped, they ought to help her, too, regardless of her connection with his brother. Ben picks up the pace, walking side-by-side next to Cole.

But the red shift has no intention of allowing them quick and easy passage. What comes next is not an object, or a monster to be fought. It is, in some ways, harder. There is dust all around them, kicked up by a nearby meteorite strike, and in the silence been hears a voice, calling his name. It is small, faint, distant. But he thinks he recognizes it. Ben stops in his tracks, listening hard. The voice comes again, and this time, he is sure. It is Five. But not Five sounding the way he had when he'd returned after so many years. This is Five the way Ben remembers him before he'd vanished. He sounds like a kid. He sounds scared, lost, alone. He keeps shouting Ben's name - and a few times, Vanya's, or calling for their father - and Ben is tilted headfirst into a panic. What if he'd shown up here, but outside of the arrival zone where the rest of them came? What about the radiation? What about the monsters? Who was going to keep him safe.

Except that the voice sounds like it is coming from a totally different direction than Cole had been leading them. Ben turns away from the unsettling stranger, just orienting himself a moment before fully intending to go plunging off blindly, to find his brother, and help him.

(He'd forgotten about the rumors of the red shift causing auditory hallucinations, after all....)

[killedwithlove]

As the dust kicks up, blasting over them, Cole turns away instinctively, feeling the gut wrench of the world heaving and the shift moving on, but Ben-

Ben is hearing something. Cole can't hear it, but he knows it as Ben does and he grabs the young man's arm to stop him. "No!" he has to shout, to be heard over the winds and the voice. "He's not there, Ben! I would know if there was a person, and there's not, he's not there! Five isn't there!"

Both Cole's hands grab and hold on, ready to try and anchor them both where they are. They could move through the wind, but it seems safer to hunker down and wait for the winds to pass. Cole knows where Creepy Joe is, but he can't sense things like cliff edges, things that could kill them if they can't see them.

i *JUST* saw autocorrect changed Ben to been in my last tag..... the betrayal....

[benhargreeves]

The hard grip on his arm jars Ben out of his haze, is enough to pause him in his tracks, guts twisting with fear. But his decision to stop is not an indication that he believes Cole, yet. The truth is he doesn't know what to believe. Cole is still just a stranger: not somebody he knows he can trust. What if this is all some trick? Some new manipulation? And Five's voice is so small and pitiful.

He asks himself what Cole could stand to gain, lying to him. He had seemed to really mean it, earlier, when he talked about needing to help those who are suffering. And if it were really Five calling out his name like that, there's no way he's anything but suffering...

It's only then that Ben remembers hearing something about trick sounds and sights in the shift. Things that led people astray. Made it so they never came back.

Ben stops trying to pull away from Cole, stands still as the dust and wind whirl around them, almost like hands tugging and shoving at him, battering him invisibly. The horrible thing is that, even once he makes the decision to stay still, decides that the voice must be only in his head, he doesn't stop hearing it. After a little while, though, it is no longer calling out his name, just sobbing, hopeless and gulping and desperate. The way Ben must have cried so many times by himself, in that lifeless future, where he had been stranded.

He stays beside Cole until the wind and the dust begin to settle, but his heart feels like it is breaking over and over again in his chest, and it isn't in him anymore to try to shield Cole from this. There's no wrestling this down, no making it numb.