Harlock's Palace - The Endless Orbit of Solitude

[freearcadia]

Who: Lechter, Zenkichi, Stoat, Moon
What: Harlock's Palace Part one
When:
Content Warnings: Death, Dead Things, Death Wish/Passive Suicide stuff, Alcoholism and scars/grevious injuries may come up

When the teams enters the Pirate's heart, there is a moment of choking darkness, threatening to strangle the life out of people, but it soon ebbs and a wailing wind shatters the silence.

You find yourselves on a vast, dry rubble-strewn wasteland being battered by winds that alternated between needle-sharp, wet cold and dry, furnace-like blasts of heat. There's a sense despite how extremely unpleasant it is that it will not harm the group, but it is trying to discourage them from exploring too thoroughly within the heart.

Above the wasteland is a dark sky utterly devoid of celestial bodies, and of such a uniform blackness that it strains the eyes to stare too long, and would no doubt incite artists into feuds over it's unnatural hue.

The only thing that broke the stark black sky is a long, ash-gray ship with a skull upon it's bow, bristling with cannons that swivel and pivot, searching for something.

The wind changes again, the lilting sound of music coming from one direction, and the sound of creaking from another.

Comments

[totalmisplay]

[quietly:]

...We're not going to get burned alive in here... Are we?

[But it will walk forward quietly, looking to see if any of the doors are labeled.]

[freearcadia]

[Oddly, despite the coloration, there's no sign of the metal actually being warped or damaged by fire.

There are no labels, only indicators if a room has been claimed by someone, three out of the six doors had such lights on, though judging from how quiet it is. The doors are operated by simple on/off buttons]

[totalmisplay]

[It tries to enter one of the occupied rooms, since it is quiet enough that it doesn't sound like anyone is in them.]

[freearcadia]

[There is... no one, but the room is clearly lived in, by someone with a passion for model-building, judging from all the planes, boats, and submarines on display, and a model of a spaceship was in progress - glinting oddly.

The bedding and scattered clothes looked rotten, as if it's been decaying for decades and had the rank smell of long stale air.]

[totalmisplay]

Gross.

[But it clambers up to look at this oddly glinting spaceship!]

[freearcadia]

[As Stoat examines the model, the glint brightens and escapes from it, zipping around the room before stopping in the middle - expanding to a completely different scene...

Stoat may notice that they have a much higher point of view - and a sudden loss in depth perception as the decaying room of a model fanatic changed to a grave on a hill.

There's static on the edge of one's vision]

[totalmisplay]

—Whoa.

[It creeps up towards this scene, though, looking for the name on the grave, before observing the scene as a whole.]

[freearcadia]

[The name oddly seems to distort and dissolve into streaking blurs as it tries to read the name, only by the date the person this grave belongs to is twenty-seven when they died. There's a general sense of confusion, as someone's thoughts start filtering in]

This... place is important, but who is this? Why am I here...?

There's patches of this hazy, overcast day that filled with static and smudges. The ground slowly rumbles, and the source of that soon becomes clear as four tanks started to roll up to the bottom of the hill, with several marked military cars behind them. Turrets rotate, cannons pointed right at the viewer

On the gleaming tank, Harlock's face can be seen reflecting back, as he threw his arms open in a protective gesture.

But protecting what? The entire scene jitters, jumps, cuts to heavy static - time being cut sundered]

[lemiserable]

[Wooha, who is this beared grandpa that totally was here with the group so far and watching what is happening.]

Be careful, it might be a jail guardian!

[freearcadia]

[The vision continues - jumping, and cutting with static bursts, words becoming more distinct as They find themselves in an arena full of people jeering or just rubbernecking as they're shuffled forward by armed men to the center of a target - anti-artillery guns pointing down at him]

Are they so damn scared that they think this is the only way to kill me? ...Why did I let myself be captured by these damned cowards?

[Someone started talking over a screen, reading a list of charges - somehow you know at least half of them were lies, pinned on him, just more excuses to execute.

Again there's an odd cut, a jump - switching to the interior of a ship, watching as the gawkers and the very same men so ready to kill running for their lives, looking little more than ants as the ship ascends]

Why do I even return to this world, all that they would want of me is my death... there's no place for me for here.

[Somehow... this memory seems wrong]

[totalmisplay]

What jail?

[Stoat is being careful, trying to keep its distance as it watches.]

...Why's it feel so off? The logic makes sense. He should just stop caring about people who want him dead.

[freearcadia]

[The vision recedes, returning to a bright speck in a grungy room, circling Stoat nd Zenkichi almost expectantly]

[totalmisplay]

If everyone just wants you dead at home, you can always ditch that place and go somewhere else. That's what I'm going to have to do.

[It kinda... moves to the side, to see if the speck will follow it.]

[freearcadia]

[The speck does follow Stoat, giving an odd impression of mulling over something]

[eggstinction]

[shifting back to his usual form and checking the next open room down from the one Stoat went into. his transformation leaves a pile of salt on the ground, but by the look of the hallway he doubts anybody is around to mind the mess.]

[freearcadia]

[Moon would find a room in a similar state of disrepair, though it's far more spartan, with only a lyre whose strings glimmer despite the darkness, there's a powerful smell of alcohol in the air that somehow still seem fresh despite the staleness of everything else]

[eggstinction]

[covers his mouth and nose against the smell, but goes to pick up the lyre]

[freearcadia]

[It suddenly starts playing by itself, a melancholy song that tells of loneliness and longing.

The scenery changes, an extremely green and vast jungle, slithering and creeping like serpents and bugs - there's half-buried skeletons and ruins of some civilization being choked out by the green. There's no sound of animal life at all.

A young man with a scarred face is resting under a tree, clearly exhausted as he uncorks a canteen]

[eggstinction]

[..............well, a giant jungle is an improvement over a metal ship in his book]

Excuse me?

[freearcadia]

[the young man doesn't hear or seem to respond to Moon's presence, and if Moon tries to touch him - he'd go right through.

Soon as the canteen is opened, the smell of brandy fills the air and from the bushes - a woman stumbles out in tattered clothes and tangled violet hair. She grabs the canteen from the young man's hand, gulping it down as he tries to steady her.]

I didn't expect to find anyone alive - are you hurt... can you understand me?

[The scenery distorts, crackling - and the young man was alone again, tipping the now empty canteen with a confused expression, before heading off.]

Who'd thought a planet so green would be so dead...

[eggstinction]

Hm?

[trails after him]

[freearcadia]

[There's no sign of the woman... but there's another set of footprints on the ground as he returns to a small, jet-like craft.]

It's really only meant for one - so it'll be a tight... what am I saying, I'm alone.

[eggstinction]

[matching his steps into the smaller footprints as he follows]

Something is wrong here...

[tries to peek his head inside the craft. just straight through the wall.]

[freearcadia]

[Soon as Moon utters the words, the entire world is filled with a buzzing, tinnitus-like noise, when it clears the scene is as before but the man is kneeling, covering his ears]

What the... hell?

[eggstinction]

[abandons the ship and hurries over to the man, reaching out to touch his shoulder without thinking about whether he'll pass through or not]

Are you okay? —did you hear that!?