exitvoid | video / text || week 15, day 6

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video / text || week 15, day 6

[ Once it begins, the video feed shows little of interest: obvious jostling, motion-blurred shapes, the indistinct colors and outlines of Zelien's overgrown flora. With a clattering noise, the jostling comes to a stop just in time to get a nice, somewhat stable view of the ground; visible in the edge of the frame are a gloved hand and the sharp curve of a blade. ]

What—

[ The voice is hoarse, perhaps not easily identified, and says nothing else before the video cuts to black.

Shortly after, a text message appears in its wake:]

I would know if this is once again Zelien

I cannot recall where else I might have gone but never have I seen a land so bare of Mist so rapidly changed

I may require assistance

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You sound hurt.

I've sustained no injury

Guess I just like the sound of you panting.

If you've no aid to offer then I will kindly ask you to refrain

[ Perhaps he's too disoriented to fully remember how much he hates this guy. (Whoops.) ]

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Current location?

Unknown

I recognize little of my present surroundings, so thick have they overgrown

[ Or, you know, it could just be that he's still disoriented. But that's as close as he'll come to admitting that he doesn't know something, or that he's lost. ]

Understood.

ETA 5 minutes.

[ Gabranth isn't certain exactly how the other man intends to find or reach him, but he's certainly not going to question it. He'll waste no time with another reply.

Instead, he decides to use that time to take stock of himself and his situation. He remembers — not nothing, not quite, but rather a vast nothingness from which he could naught to escape. Until now, apparently.

How long had he been trapped in such a state?

No, it won't do him any good to dwell on that now, not when he has no means of finding immediate answer. He would do far better to focus instead on what's at hand — such as his swords, which by some miracle have not been lost to him. He's without his armor, but his last memories before the void (and what a strain it is now to recall them) indicate that the same was true even then.

As he casts a wary, surveying glance over the surrounding brush, he can only hope that he won't miss it too dearly. ]

[ The fact that the voice cuts out, retreating so rapidly to text, cannot be a good sign. Mirar will keep it at video, in the hopes of drawing that voice out again.

It hadn't sounded healthy. ]

What kind of assistance? Are you all right?

[ He's sustained no physical injury — at least not yet — but his disorientation is such that he's reluctant to make his voice heard again. (A pity, perhaps, for such reluctance would most certainly not take precedence if he were under any greater duress.) ]

I cannot recognize my surroundings

[ Just to be sure— ] Is this truly Zelien?

[ Mirar maintains it even so - in part because he never actually learned how to do the typing thing. ]

Yes, it's Zelien. We do not know what has happened to it, but the campus and all of our rooms are still here.

Can you reconise none of the buildings around you, underneath the plants?

I had not been here for so long that I could recall them so easily

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You don't sound too good. And yeah, this is Zelien.

Where were you? Were you sent back home or something?

No

[ He isn't immediately sure how best to describe it. ]

There was nothing

[Huh...]

You mean you don't remember anything?

No

[ There's no fault in his memory, he's certain of that. But exactly what he remembers is something he finds difficult to describe, at least in his present state, still in the midst of disorientation. ]

It was nothingness

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action!

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what kind of assistance?

I cannot discern my surroundings at present

like... you're blind? [ That actually happened to a friend of hers recently. ]

i didn't even notice lmfao

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oh good!

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It is Zelien, though I'm uncertain how much time has passed for it to become this way.

[ It isn't until this mention of time that something occurs to him. ]

How much has passed since we were transported to that other town?

Exactly. The last time we were returned from a 'rift', several months had passed here in Zelien; we left the city in January and returned in April. This time, however, it appears as if almost a century has passed.

I wonder if we're not returning to the Zelien we left, but rather an alternate universe of it.

Should I perhaps offer a sort of "welcome back" statement? This is Zelien, after all.

I cannot say that this return is one welcomed

[Ugh, fine, text it is, as much time as it takes him to get the damned words out.]

I would suggest the make the most of it, sir, or you will find yourself in despair quickly.

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