The three of you fall and fall into the darkness. You cannot see each other, although you occasionally brush while you plummet. It feels like a very. long. drop. It will probably not feel good at the bottom. Any preparations?

Andreas calls out "Lean to the right! Right!", then tries to focus on keeping himself as loose and relaxed as possible, discovering that it's very difficult.

Rowan, given someone with more clues than he does, immediately does so, and finds it almost entirely impossible to relax at all.

Kelsey has no idea what Andreas means and just screams her lungs out. There are some times when it really does feel better to do that.

From afar, Kelsey would say I'm -partly- limp, but not very. :)

You hit the bottom, hard but not nearly as hard as you expected. Andreas hits, knees bent and leaning to the right, which launches him almost immediately down a pointy, rocky slope, rolling to his right in an out of control fashion. However, this gets him out of the way of the two plummeting Garou. Kelsey simply slams into the ground, all the breath knocked out of her and about two dozen new bruises added on top of the ones she already has. Rowan, having had the presence of mind to listen to Andreas, finds himself similarly propelled down a long, gravelly slope.

Rowan, in pain and not thinking very well, emits several loud groans and just lets himself roll to a stop once there's some natural stopping point.

Andreas flails out with arms and legs, trying to slow himself or at least keep potential unseen boulders from pulping his skull.

Unconsciousness seldom comes for the asking, but Kelsey flirts with it aggressively for half a minute or so trying to make a successful bid for it. Pain and gasping for breath finally take over.
The two men careen downhill for several very long seconds. Andreas manages to stop himself by jamming his large body up against a small ledge. Rowan cannons past him, over a miniature cliff, and drops into a heap on the one flat space around here. Kelsey, queen of the mountain, slowly regains her breath.

Rowan growls, "Fuck fuck fuck..." and just lies there for a moment. Finally able to concentrate at least a little, he lurches to his knees and closes his eyes for a moment.

From afar, Rowan does that Grandmother's Touch thing.
You paged Rowan with 'It's extremely hard to manage, but you do eke a wound or two's healing from Gaia.'.

Kelsey eventually picks herself up and begins to crawl on hands and knees after them, as well as she can judge by the sounds. "Hey?" she croaks hoarsely and not all that loudly.

Andreas spends a long moment very very quiet and still, listening for the sounds of Anything Else down here while his brain sorts out the parts of his body in pain by order of priority.

Rowan looks, after a moment, only slightly better, but slightly is better than nothing. "Jesus homicidal fucking dark," he mutters, still kneeling, and calls, "Hey!" back, fairly non-aggressively.

There seem to be no noises other than skittering gravel at this point. Kelsey finds slippery going on her way down; small landslides occur periodically, and they carry her several feet at a time. Andreas finds that he is bruised, battered, slightly bloodied, but still fundamentally in better shape than his compatriots. There does seem to be some sort of light source, so that the three of you can see each other in a dim and uncertain sort of way.

Andreas shifts position with a little groan, triggering the roll of a few more pebbles down the slope. "And this one makes three. How are you both feeling, my friends?"

Kelsey moves towards Rowan's stream of curses as quickly as she's able, which really isn't all that fast, her rasping breath probably making Andreas even more nervous until he realizes it's coming from her. She gets to the edge of the drop-off and halts, staring down at Rowan in the dim light. "Get back to you on that," she growls raggedly.

"Oh, just peachy." Once Kelsey gets in sight, he glowers at her. "C'mon down here, I can try the Touch on you." Mixed messages theater.

From afar, to Kelsey, Eos, and Andreas, Rowan cues the music.

Andreas gropes around for a fist-sized stone, finds one, and irrationally feels better. He Has a Rock. He makes no attempt to move, though. "As the non-lycanthrope minority, may I ask how your heads are so far? Mentally, that is?"

Some gravel tumbles down from above. There is a scuttling sound behind Rowan, in the darkness.

Kelsey looks out at the shadowy world warily, clinging to the lip of the ledge like an unwilling diver. The question elicits a choking laugh. "No worse than usual." After a few long breaths, she slings herself over the edge, missing the sound of approaching problems.

Rowan slowly turns to peer behind him, warily.

Andreas pages: Yiieee. Is there anything I can see or hear? I'm trying to push my darksight and nose (and teeth) to a more ratty level.

Andreas murmurs softly, "After hearing your view of world history, zat is ZO reassuring..."

Rowan adds, after a moment, "So far as I know, I'm fne. Mentally." There's a pause. "Well, ok, I'm homicidal, but not insane yet."

The noise grows. More scuttling. More slipping stones. But now there's curious little peeps, cheeps, and squeaks. And beady little eyes. And twitching noses.

You paged Andreas with 'Cousins!'.

Andreas gives a soft gasp and puts down his rock, making cheeping and clucking noises that sound very odd in his baritone.

Rowan, on the other hand, scuttles back, looking for a wall to put behind his back.

Kelsey remains crumpled after landing. "I think," she rasps grimly, "You'd better stay up there, Mr.--" she breaks off and looks up as Andreas starts making strange noises. "Oh boy."

From afar, Andreas gets in the right frame of mind to try to communicate, and tries to convey the impression that he's VERY glad to see them, and do they know a way out?

The rats swarm in. Fifty? A hundred? No way of knowing, really, since they keep moving and writhing and squeaking and scuttling. Several come down the slope to sniff hesitantly at Andreas, while the swarm below seems targeted on Rowan. They don't hurt at all. They merely sniff, and crawl, and squeak.

Andreas remembers his companions. "Do NOT harm them! They're...well, distant family. And if what I did worked properly, they hold you both in the highest regard at the moment."

Kelsey suffers herself to hold still, hands twitching slightly as the tide of vermin washes in. "Oh. Thank Gaia. Thought you were going already, Andreas. Thanks."

Rowan holds himself rather still, and lets the rats investigate him. "Hi," he mutters, a little nervously.

The rats climb in, the rats climb out. Rowan finds himself with rats inside his shirt and pants, rats in his hair, rats in his sleeves, rats nuzzling his neck and face with cold little noses. All around, he is being regarded by beady little eyes.

Andreas's long-toothed smile can't be seen in the dim light, but it can be heard in his voice. "Thank you both for so cleverly giving me samples of blood to work on, and Mr. Smarty-Arm for being too clever for his own health and giving me time to work. Now we see if they know a way out, yes?"

Rowan, eventually, relaxes slightly, except when they tickle his ears, and even offers one a scritch. At Andreas' words, his eyes widen. "Sir, if you can get me out of here, I'll... Make you cookies for the rest of your life."

A rat climbs onto Andreas' shoulder and nibbles very gently on his earlobe. Then it sits back on its haunches, holding onto his ear with a cold little paw. After a few moments, the swarm on Rowan decides to investigate Kelsey in much the same manner, although they are more skittish about her.

Kelsey looks upwards with dazed confusion towards the sound of Andreas' voice, trying to make sense of what's happening and not shudder against the nips and nosings. "What should we do?" she rallies, trying to keep her voice steady.

Rowan offers, "Walk?" After a pause, he adds, "Do I know your name, sir?"

From afar, Andreas will try to explain that he and the other two bipeds were put down here by Nastyfolk, and would be very grateful if they could be shown a way back to the sun? Preferably one that didn't bring them too close to Nastyfolk?

You paged Andreas with 'Nastyfolk? Sun? Live in dark. Eat in dark. Eat good. Folk fall from above, we eat. Why would we leave?'.

Andreas chitters a bit more to the local rat, pausing to skritch between its ears gently. "Andreas Roshenko at your service, Sir. Walking is wise...the route is still in question, though. One moment, please."

Rowan offers quietly, "Rowan Fairgrove, among other names," and otherwise shuts up.

From afar, Andreas hrms. Do you eat all who fall? What happens to those you don't?

You paged Andreas with 'Others eat. Many others. Others others others. We won't eat you. Maybe they will. Maybe a way elsewhere far away.'.

Kelsey struggles to get to her feet without stepping on a rat's tail.

The light shifts, or a cloud of mist drifts away; whatever the case, the light shifts. With the new illumination, it becomes clear that the pile of gravel you all came down, one way or another, is actually an enormous pile of bones. Bones of all shapes and sizes. Mammoth tusks protrude through human skulls. They are myriad and ancient. The rats are emerging from the space between the bones.

Andreas's chitterings sound a bit more urgent.

Kelsey takes several deep breaths, and reaches for her unicorn necklace with her free hand. She finds the silver-edged collar first, and shudders.

Andreas pages: We wish very much to avoid these others. Very very much. Please, how do we get to the way elsewhere?

Rowan pales. "Great good Gods," he mutters, and gulps.

You paged Andreas with 'We take you to water place. Drink drink drink. You feel better.'.

From afar, Andreas expresses his gratefulness.

The rats move away, down onto the flat gray slate that seems to be the floor of this place. The swarm moves off in one direction that looks very much like all the others.

Andreas gathers his feet under him while not disturbing the rat at all, a move that seems practiced. His tone is grimmer than a minute before. "It seems that there is, mmm, a food chain down here, and my cousins are, mrmmmm, not near the top. They offer to take us to a water source, and mention that there might be a 'way elsewhere'."

Rowan lurches to his feet immediately. "I'm all for it," he affirms.

Kelsey nods shakily. "I don't feel much like picnicking here myself," she remarks, and starts moving in the direction the rats are headed. "They leadin' us?"

Andreas picks his way down cautiously. "How did that playwright put it? 'Follow the brown-furred road'."

Rowan follows, trying not to look overly much at any specific bone.

One of the skulls chatters its jaws after Rowan, very much like it's laughing.

Rowan mutters, "Oh, shut up," and keeps climbing.

Andreas pauses on the verge of picking up a tusk, eyeing the skeletons around them with slightly more caution, if not much respect.

Kelsey tries to stay blinkered, too, straggling along with Rowan. She doesn't look too closely at the heaving bones, more for fear of what she hasn't seen yet, than for their admittedly macabre appearance. "Them bones, them bones, them dry bones," she sings softly and jauntily.

The rats lead down onto the flat, cold floor. They slow to stay in sight of the bipeds, and lead them, fairly quickly, to a narrow stream. It looks very cold and clear, and the sound of its flow is fairly normal.

You paged Andreas with 'This is our water place. Drink drink drink. Safe, not all safe here.'.

Andreas cocks his head, listening, and then acts as translator. "This is their water source. Safe...unlike other water places down here, if I get the nuances right."

Rowan, rather devoid of water the past few days and, also, leaking blood at random intervals, crouches down to drink. "This also the way out?"

Andreas makes a few more whirring, chittering sounds.

Andreas pages: From here, if we wanted to go away-up-safe-out, where would we go? How far?

Kelsey sags and kneels to scoop some water in her hands, squinching her nose against the thought of rat toes and other worse things that are probably in the water.

Long distance to Andreas: Eos hees. The rats don't know how to get out. They just know that no rat has ever returned from going Over The Stream.

Andreas frowns. "It leads somewhere interesting, at least. What I'm hearing NOW is that no rat who's gone Over The Stream has come back."

Kelsey winces. "Maybe it's the Styx."

Rowan frowns. "Rather try that than nothing."

Andreas bends to take his own drink, gently tilting his shoulder to let the rat off first. "If you're both serious about that, we should probably try to do something about those collars."

Kelsey looks back towards the cliff they came from, and in doing so towards the bone army. She sighs and straightens again. "I'd rather wait before taking the plunge the rest of the way into the abyss, really, but we may not have much choice." To Andreas she sighs. "Don't suppose you've got the no-moon trick for opening locks?"

Rowan grins, suddenly. "Be obliged, let me tell you. I already tried, with my Gift. It don't work. But, hey, if he's got other stuff..."

Andreas wipes some water off his chin. "My methods are a bit more crude...let me take a close look at these nasty things, now."

Kelsey doesn't smile. She simply holds very still and closes her eyes, hands clenching slightly in anticipation of having someone pawing at her neck.

Rowan holds still. Barely.

Andreas runs large blunt nails over each collar, tapping them experimentally, then takes a step back and furrow his brow in thought. "SO far from my element...neither of you likely to have any other silver, da? A ring, or anything like that? Think, nibbler, think..."

Rowan shakes his head, dryly. "Don't keep silver around, as a general rule."

Kelsey shakes her head stiffly. ~Afraid no.~

Andreas thinks out loud as he moves to the stream, dipping his hand in. "Our captors did not have a rack with different collars in different neck sizes for their clientele--their magic is one-size-fits-all, yes? I cannot break your collars, I think--not in the time we have."

Andreas pulls up some mud, which he divides into two small handfuls. "However, if my magic is smarter than their magic I can perhaps fool it. Sometimes-called-Rowan, my hands are full of mud because I am short-sighted. In my right pocket is a pen, yes? Here? Take it out and snap it in half for me?"

Rowan looks thoughtful for a moment, but then snaps out of it and gets the pen, snapping it quickly. "Now what?"

Kelsey watches the procedure distractedly, eyes darting towards the shadows as she attempts to keep watch.

The large man touches a little of the mud to each collar, right hand to Rowan, left hand to Kelsey. "Give one half to our friend, keep one. Each of you, plug an end with your finger. I need blood, saliva, and some of your breath inside."

You paged Kelsey with 'The shadows start to look like familiar forms and faces. From long ago. Watching you.'.

Rowan blinks. "Our friend? Oh, the collar?"

Andreas tilts his head at Kelsey. "My small mind is on this mud, not names I heard while I was trying not to wet myself. You, timelost one, take your pen-half."

Kelsey blinks rapidly, lips parting to bare her teeth at shadows. Tearing her gaze away, she licks her lips and spits onto her hands, picks a little half-dried blood from one of her wounds that's still more pliant than crumbly, blows on it, and takes the end of the pen as bidden, covering the end with her index finger

Rowan says, "Oh. Sorry. She's Kelsey." He hands the pen over to her, and then breathes and manages a bit of saliva into the combination. And, easily, some blood.

Andreas pages: Sympathetic magic again---each hollow tube, with the appropriate fluids, is the Garou's neck in miniature.

You paged Andreas with 'Okay.'.

Andreas kneels, kneading the clay between his fingers before putting it on the ground, taking pains to keep each handful seperate. "Good. Keep the tubes upright, please. And DO NOT take your finger away. That would be bad." The clay is getting rolled out into two little snakes.

Rowan does not, in fact, take his finger away, and watches carefully.

Kelsey's eyebrows find the energy to arch like cats in consternation against her rather pale forehead, but she continues to obey patiently. "And Gaia knows it would be a shame to ruin the nice day we've had so far."

Andreas pages: What I'm trying to do now is convince the clay and collars that they're linked...that a little clay hoop around each tube is just like a collar around a neck.

Long distance to Andreas: Eos nodsnods.

You paged Kelsey with 'You begin to hear the laughter of old, dead Shadow Lords around you.'.

Kelsey appends, generally, "Fuck you."

Andreas is mumbling under his breath as he works, in equal parts english, an odd spanish dialect, and more of the chittering noises he used earlier. His knees make little creaking sounds as he stands and loops one of the clay snakes around each tube, forming a thick ring around each tube.

Rowan keeps upright. Fairly calmly, really. Considering.

Kelsey's eyes start to water as she stares off into the darkness whence they came. She's still holding the pen segment, but seems a little distracted.

Andreas eyes collar and ring, collar and ring, making tiny alterations here and there, still muttering. Finally satisfied, he steps back to the stream to get a little more water on his hands.

You paged Rowan with 'You start seeing faces in the darkness. Fanged faces. Faces with glowing red eyes.'.

Rowan blinks, and slips his gaze toward... Somewhere other than it was.

Andreas pages: And now the place where it gets tricky: I'm going to widen each clay ring, making it larger and larger. With luck, the collars will grow too?

You paged Andreas with 'With the application of some of your blood and spit and such, yes, the collars begin to loosen.'.

Andreas makes a quick slashing motion against his front teeth, which look longer than usual, and begins working Rowan's clay ring with quick fingers, stretching the clay, widening it. The clay turns a darker color as blood mixes with it. As the ring becomes a wide, thin one with a lot of leeway around the tube Andreas turns to Kelsey's ring, not even looking to see if any corresponding effect has happened.

Rowan's gaze keeps sliding about.

Kelsey drags her gaze away again with a silent snarl and watches what Andreas is doing instead, shoulders hunched against the treachery of her own imagination.

Large wet fingers, blood sweat and clay mixing freely, work their way around the clay ring of Kelsey's tube, stretching, expanding it.

The collars begin to loosen, amazingly enough, as the big man works the clay wider. At last, they are large enough to draw off over your heads.

You paged Andreas with 'You're pretty wiped out. That was a Major working.'.

Rowan mutters, "I still gotta hold this thing?"

Andreas moves snake-quick, lifting each collar off and tossing it aside. "N-no. Tubes're o...o.k. Just one m're thing."

Rowan, taking that as permission, lowers his arm a bit, but quirks a curious eyebrow.

Andreas slumps forward, eyelids closing. "Catch m-"

Kelsey blinks and lunges forward to grab at the man. "Shit."

Rowan drops the pen and also darts forward.

Rowan supports Andreas as he takes his collar off and kicks it far far away.

Kelsey struggles under an armpit; she's not short, for a woman, but Andreas is quite massive, and she isn't up to weightlifting right now. Rowan's gesture reminds her, and she works a hand free of the human to fumble at her own.

Rowan shifts up into glabro, at least, and shakes the man slightly, as if that will help wake him up.
The shadows seem oddly closer. And the faces are there too.

Andreas mumbles..the words 'Glory' and 'dream' are the only ones audible. His eyelids flicker and open, but the eyes are still a bit unfocussed.

Kelsey gets the collar off and throws it towards the shadows like a sop to Cerebus. "Guess it's time to be going. You got a good grip, Rowan?" she asks, again trying to sound calm. She, too, takes to the halfway form; it's not liked her rags of clothes can suffer any further at this point.

Rowan gets a better one. "Yes'm. C'mon," and starts heading down that riverlet.

Kelsey tells him over Andreas' shoulder, staring across the stream into the unknown, "Whatever happens, know that I thank you." It's probably not quite the word he'd like to hear, but perhaps there is the hint of it in her tone. Then she goes with him.

The riverlet is cold on your toes, but does not seem to have suffered from all the little rat feet in the water. When you cross it, though, you have come into an entirely different-looking world. It looks like... a dark streetcorner with a flickering streetlamp. Steam rolls out of a nearby grating. Silent shadows with flashing eyes lurk in the dimness.

Rowan's eyes widen slightly, and he peers around. "Um. Andreas? You got clues?" The man, being as he's currently unconscious, probably doesn't.

Kelsey shifts her grip under Andreas' other arm as they land in parts unknown. "Did you bring a street map?" she queries, eyes narrowing as she scans the area ahead.

A few people have the knack for making profanity sound like urgent prayers. Andreas is one of them. "Fuck."

Rowan mutters, "Not right now, I gotta headache," and sighs. "That's a no, then. C'mon, let's get goin', maybe we can find somethin'...?"

Kelsey tries not to look too long at anything that's looking back. "I'm sure we can find something," she says with one of her uncomfortable little laughs. "After you."

Andreas is managing to move his own feet now. "We know where we're goin'. We..on our way there. No one'll mess...us."

Rowan glances around warily, looking for somewhere vaguely reasonable to go.

A blocky, broad-shouldered man in a black suit, expensive slacks, patent leather shoes steps out from a sidestreet. He looks like one of those cartoon men with the square jaws, giant chests, small neat legs, except that he is quite solid, and striding towards them with brusque heavy steps. "Lost again, Eisenmann?" he snaps. "We're waiting for your report."

Kelsey blanches and takes a step backwards.

There's a slight noise, of to the side, and there's suddenly a very urbane individual right in front of Rowan, chuckling, mockingly, low in his throat. There's a flash of fang, and then the Dancer growls, a far louder growl than he really should be expected to be able to give just at the moment. Perhaps predictably, given his recent performance, his only reaction other than that is to lash out at him, almost desperately.

A scratchy, hoarse laugh is heard as a scrawny man with long, straggly hair, bulging eyes and a gaping smile emerges partially from another side street. His skin has an odd, fishlike gleam to it, and the odd angle of his head exposes hideous rope burns. "Andy? Andy, why aren't you in Birmingham with the others? Your place is with your *mates*, boy, you know that." He croaks another laugh at Andreas's stricken expression and hunches forward, exposing the massive swollen insect-body his torso is emerging from, getting closer to the paralyzed man.

From afar, to Eos, Andreas, and Rowan, Kelsey feels lame. Your nightmares are better than mine. All I've got is Mr. Jenkins from A Wrinkle In Time on steroids.
Rowan pages all: I've just got some leechboy.
Andreas pages to Kelsey, Eos, and Rowan: Honestly, Kelsey, I wouldn't trade for any money--that's *nasty*
Rowan pages to Kelsey, Eos, and Andreas: Amen!

Kelsey's eyes dart between the two men at her side and in passing to the creatures their own fears have generated. Her jaw tightens. She knows what's happening, but it doesn't really help much; that thing in front of Andreas is enough to cause a few psychological tremors in bystanders as well. "Go to hell, alpha," she says gamely, but after two hundred years of contemplation the line is a little stale. "Rowan. Andreas. Let's walk." She drops her grip to Andreas' hand and starts down the street, trying to ignore her tribe elder. He falls into step next to her. "Whelp. I see you've finally admitted that you're nothing more than a Child of Gaia with your hair dyed black. The tribe has downsized; it is now lean, efficient, and eminently more productive, since the weak links like you were jettisoned."

Kelsey's man multiplies, splitting into a dozen, no, two dozen, and surrounding her. "Time for your report, Eisenmann," they intone stolidly.

The leech dancing with Rowan grows and stretches into an even more monstrous form, batlike and draconic at the same time, hissing Rowan's name seductively as it makes lightning feints toward his throat.

Andreas' 'friend' closes on him, laughing and laughing.

Rowan gives a startled glance to Kelsey, even as he's lashing at the thing -- not quite frenzied, but close. ~What! This, this, this...~

Andreas grips Kelsey's hand like a lifeline, shuddering uncontrollably, but manages a near-conversational tone. "He's dead, you know. They both, they all are. Dead, ashes, dust." He wipes sweat away from his face.

Kelsey pales further at the sight of multiple Shadow Lords: her alpha was unbearable enough. But Rowan's lunge gives her something to focus on besides her own feelings of inadequacy. "Rowan! No! Stay with us. We need your anchor."

The many Shadow Lords hiss, "Your report. Your report. We want your report." Their bodies are changing, shifting, warping. Now there are a dozen things with her alpha's face that look like Pattern Spiders with a single silver arm each.

The mutated vampire grows more, laughs, and somehow, Rowan just *knows* that this, *this* is Set, somehow survived the Sun's Return.

"So're you, Andy," the dead thing hisses. "You're dead, you're ashes, you're dust. You haven't been alive since you ran out on us, and you know it."

Rowan growls, ~/Fuck/ you,~ at the leech, barely managing to stop his attack, ~You're /gone/. Gone gone /gone/. Fuckin' not /here/.~

Kelsey gives a little gasp and sinks back against Andreas, stopping short. "Though here at journey's end I lie," she wavers, "in darkness buried deep/ Beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all mountains steep..."

Andreas squares his shoulders and says, very deliberately, "I PISSED ON YOUR GRAVE. You sad twisted fuck, you took a lot of Searats down with you, but there's nothing I wouldn't do again! And when I get out of here, I'm going to dig you up and SHOW you how alive I am!"

Kelsey pages to Eos, Andreas, and Rowan: The gents rave and the Coggie Lord demonstrates her true wussy nature. ;)
From afar, to Kelsey, Eos, and Andreas, Rowan didn't even /write/ Rowan as rageboy, but there you go...
Andreas pages to Kelsey, Eos, and Rowan: Hee!

The Shadow Lord-spider things begin to spin webs between one forearm and the silver arm and chant, "Your report. You need a rest, Kelsey, why don't you rest, Kelsey, become one of us, Kelsey?" Their voices are slowly shifting to Argent's voice.

Set rears up, laughing at Rowan, and shrinks down into... Kelsey, suddenly. "What the hell is up with you, Rowan? What time is it, Rowan? What time is it? Is it time to give up now, Rowan?"

The laughing, dead, insectoid thing laughs and points at Andreas. "You're joining me, Andy boy, you're joining meeeeeee!" It trails off into a hysterical shriek, and Andreas does indeed appear to be turning fishy and insectoid as well...

Rowan just laughs. ~It's time to get the fuck out, is what time it is. Come on people, let's just get, these guys're losin' it.~

Kelsey continues to sing doggedly. It's not original, but good Galliards know the worth of words with a little history behind them. "Hell yeah. Above all shadows rides the sun, and stars forever dwell..." She starts forward again. Nevermind where. Maybe it's fairy, and only the sticking to a path is what matters. Except this isn't fairy at all.

Andreas closes his eyes and forces himself forward, letting Kelsey pick the route, as long as it's *away*.

Rowan doesn't even look at the Kelsey-analogue again, apparently having rejected her firmly, for whatever reason, and just paces along with the real one.

The world becomes a shrieking, shifting mass of nauseous color, spinning rapidly one way, then another, loved ones in various states of bloody dismemberment flashing past.

You paged Andreas with 'Your right arm is talking to you. It's telling you to kill Kelsey. It would be so easy. She's so broken right now.'.

Rowan grits his teeth, triess to ignore it, and keeps going, growling softly.

You paged Rowan with 'Your claws. They're calling to you. They want to come out. They want to feel flesh rip, let blood flow. Andreas is just a human. He'd bleed so well.'.

You paged Kelsey with 'Your lungs are refusing to sing. They want to roar. They're telling you so. They want to roar as you tear Rowan's head off. You should do it. He doesn't believe in you any more. He doesn't trust you. Kill him so he can't tell everyone that you're a traitor.'.

Rowan's fingers start twitching. ~Shut /up,~ he growls, at nothing in particular.

Andreas glares downwards and to the right. "Shut up! You can be replaced! I-I never liked you!"

Kelsey's voice cracks and breaks. She turns her head to look at the pair of them, not even trying to see which way she's walking, and gasps for words. "No! I will not say--" she loses the thread and snarls, choking before she can finish. Her gaze grows wild as she stares at Rowan, and she yanks her hand from Andreas' grasp so suddenly it hurts.

From afar, Kelsey tries to fight it, make and shape a dream out of the madness. She's in no shape to pull out anything pretty, beautiful, safe, or soothing. But she has one thing backed by two hundred years of a different kind of madness. The cocoon. The webs. Binding, blissful numbness. No sound, no thought, no love, no hate, no music, no life, no sun, no sky-- but no shadows either. She tries to visualize the webs and send that image to Rowan and Andreas as well.

A numbing cocoon envelops all your minds, dulling down the things you're hearing and seeing. You are also in mental contact through Kelsey.

You paged Kelsey with 'Your WP is almost nil now. :)'.
From afar, Kelsey figgered. This is her last throw.

Andreas sags and almost stumbles at the sudden release of tension. Mentally he says "How...which of you did this?"

Rowan mutters, even mentally, "Not me. She did this before, although it was mostly to spew depression at me."

Kelsey bites her lip, still fighting for air. But she doesn't need air to talk this way. "Welcome to my hell." she says with faint irony, silent laughter. "Peaceful, isn't it? Let the shadows howl outside all they like; they're just wind." She is using the whole of her mind to shape the image for them: a gray world, colorless, scentless, tasteless, still, silent, numb, dead, a place beyond all joy or pain or purpose, and the sickening feeling of something as soft as silk and stronger than glass enveloping each of them like a bed with the sheets tucked in too tightly.

Through the cocoon, you all feel hands touching you.

You paged Kelsey, Andreas, and Rowan with 'You all need to teleport now. You're being rescued. :)'.
Rowan has left.
Andreas has left.
Kelsey has left.

From afar, to Eos and Rowan, Kelsey oooo, good timing.

From afar, to Eos, Andreas, and Julen, Kelsey's concentration snaps like ice, and the image of the Weaver's prison, perhaps thankfully, dissipates. Also Kelsey will start thrashing if she can.