cryovision | Pavo Heart Game: Wednesday Session

Pavo Heart Game: Wednesday Session

When you enter the light, you find yourself hovering weightless in a void, as if caught in a moment of falling inertia. In the distance, you hear a voice that seems to shift and twist, familiar and yet unfamiliar.

"You shouldn't be here. But since you already are, let's make a wager. If you can uncover the truth, you'll find me. If you can't, you may be hopelessly lost... What a shame that would be."

You begin falling, and your vision blacks out--

[OOC NOTE: your goals are "reveal the truth" to "find the true heart". All images in toplevels are for general inspo, please make sure you read the flavourtext cause things are not exactly as they are in the images.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's a cocktail. Dandelion wine, cut with sparkling white wine. Delicious and deceptively strong, it's the crown jewel of Mondstadt's mixed drinks.

[Pavo is obviously a huge fan. Noctua rolls his eyes.]

It's strong liquor.

[says Noctua.]

It does sound like one of the more appetizing ones.

I'll try back at the dorm maybe. [Not during a game when she doesn't know why she says no usually.]

I like grapes.

Grape juice, then.

[Noctua pours a rich, high quality juice just for you, and passes it over.

When you take a sip, reality seems to fracture. On the one hand, you can see the two of them still there, in the happy bar, picking up a bantering conversation that's full of rude words but still sounds like flirting. On the other, you can see a black and white, near-silent version of the scene, where Pavo is slumped against the bar, dead, skewered by a greatsword while bright red blood, the only colour in the room, drips everywhere, and Noctua is cleaning a glass as if it doesn't matter at all.

It keeps flickering. You feel dizzy. Neither world seems to recognise your existence.

What is real? Who were you again?

You're alone. Forgotten by the world. W̸͔͑͌̑͝h̵̳͔̘͛͑͂ǫ̴͋̆̏̿͜͝ ̶̢̜̫̏͊̚à̷̢͜r̴̢͓̖͓̿ë̶̢̗̼́̑̆ͅ ̴̡̦̲͓̥͊͋̚y̶͉̤̲̆̃̃o̴͖͊̍͆͝u̵̯̻̫̓́͘͠?̷̰͊͐̈́̈́͝

You don't know. You don't know, you don't--

you don't--

you--

Ḯ̷̤̩̺͈͇̟̇ ̷̺̲̮̰̳̫̼̀̀̇͜d̸̞̥̥͖̹͕͖̹͓͈̊̌̀̀o̷̭̅̉̓n̶̨͚̱̫̞͈̣̱͉̭̓͊̈́͊͜'̵̧̰̖͔̰̺̳͉̳̿ẗ̶̢̰̞̳̬͇̜̰̩̗̬́͆͑̃̚ ̶͈͈̫͇̙̝̖̭͈̔̇͐̾͊̚͝ͅk̸̟̼̫̙̳̿̕ṉ̵̳̪̥̤̄̓͛̆͛͂̊̈́̀̊͗͝o̸̡͆̃̏͂̉͛̐̂̈̐̚ẁ̶̱̲̯̞̘̦͇̱̟͍̻̂̈͒̐̈́͊̔̏̈́͠͝ ̷̜̹̣̹̘́İ̷̛͎͕͙̻͖͓̯̝̹̈͆͆̅̌̍̃̈́̚͝ͅ ̶̧̡̠̭̘̳͎̻̭̰̟̟̘̑̇͑̊͗̓͂̀̅ḑ̸͓̰̮̺̻͎͔̖̀̆̐̀͊͜ǒ̶̧̡̜͓̰̱͇̞͔̣̝̬̜͘ň̴̨̨̡̦͓͇̙̫̫̤͉̽̅̋̃͗͝ͅ'̶̡̢͍̰̲̠͚̰̌̂͆͠͝ţ̶͉̱͖̘̪̖͑͐̀̐̾̆̆̌̍̌͗̕͝ ̸͖͇̬͖̠̗̈́̽̇̈̂͑̈́̐̔̓̂k̴͉̬̳͆̆͝ǹ̸̻͍̥̑͊͒ő̵̗͍̔̈́͛͗̀̿̕̚̚͝͝͝ŵ̸̢͙͉̳̤̰̤̟̹̑̏̅̔ ̶̯̩̼͕̤̱̺̘̝̔̌́͗̾̾́͂̉̕͠Ǐ̶̫̠̈́͜ ̵̛̙͕͚̻̮̘͗̈̿̈́̐͐͗̍͠͝͠d̵̟̝͉͈̐͗̔́̄̾̾̚͝o̷̢̗̝̦̟̬͉̽̉n̴̢̨̛̟̘͇̯̠̩̖̼̒̅̓̋̈́͑̃̒͛̅͜͠'̷̡̰͎̤̼̲́̾͘͜͠t̸̠̥̱̩̣̰̻͉͂̀͂͗̎̈͜͝ ̸͙̼̙͇̈͂͗̀͗͑͝k̷̦̹̦̗͓̻̯̘͕͓̮͒̿̇̈́̑͋̓̚ṋ̸̢̢͍͇͍͌̎͌͛̓͆͑͂̈́́̕͜͠o̷̠̣̺͆w̴̛̫͖̩̓̅͒̈́͋̽̾̾͊̏͝ ̶̻̼̞̑̽̅͑̎̓̅͆̿͆̌̀̕I̸̝͓̙̪̅͌̈̾͐̉̈̉̓͘̕͜͝͠ ̴̧̧͚̘͎̱̹̜͖̣̦͎͖̏̾̓̇͐̍͝d̷͔̤͚̩̪͙̱̤͉͔̀̒̊͐̋͗̚͠ō̸̡̮̰͓̥̟̝̦͇͉̤͛̂̊̒̋̑͗̓̈́ṇ̸̢̭͓͎̻͙͌̓'̵̢̢̥̙̻̬͇̯̥͇̋̔̈̚̚͜t̷̫̰̒̐͐͗̒̓̕ ̴̤̞̫͇̳̩͈͉͙̯̝̒̈́͝k̴͎̱͕̽̂̈́́̊͌͠͠n̵̢̛͕̮̬͔̱͚̲̼̞͙̟̠̄̍̉̽̌́̄̀͘͘͘͠ȏ̷̡̗̼͈̺̖̩̖͌͑̍́͜w̶͕̼͔͔̯̗̽̓̒̌̀̄̆̀̕͠͠ ̷̨̳̟̭͓̩͚̲̭̪̂͛́̄̄͐̽̈̈́Ì̷̯̝͖̜͔̺̔̎ ̸̧̤̪̻̱̱̣͍͍̥͂͋͠d̴̘̟̭̩̱̥̜̣̳̱̻̄̊̔̈̓̉̈́̔̀͌̃ǫ̶̬͔̙̤̻͈̪̱͔̯̤̫̅̿͆̈ṅ̸̛̗͍͚̒'̴̹̗̙͇̠̦̤͇̂͒ț̶̬̱̲̠̈̍͋̕͝͠͠ ̴̛͇̥͉̟̺͒͑̾̋͋̎k̴͇͖̙̗̈̈́̓͆̐͠n̵̢̛̥̤͍̞͈̫͐̽͆͊̿o̷͖̗̤͛w̵̡̹̭͕̩̠̹͓̙͎̆͒͑͒͋̕͝ ̸̡͓̮̞͉͖̝͎̘̯̏̽̿ͅĬ̴̩͉͙̱͚̫̗̙̻͋͊̉͛̔͐͘ ̸̢͉̈́̽̂͐̆̚͝͝d̸̠͉̘̺̱͉̥͇͍͖̆̾͛͌͗̌̎̈̀̔͌̚͜ͅo̵̘͍͖͖̲̠̝̙͎̦̍͑̀͑͛ñ̷͍̒͒̿̏̾̅́̕'̵̤̺̤̫̇̊̓͑̒͋̅͂̏̕̕̕t̷̟̱̟͓̦̹̞̙̣̺͕̰̘͌ ̴̭̞͗̂͑̔̌̕k̴̦̪̟͑̃̽́͗̽̃̍̓̊́n̷̨̛̦̣̟̗̈́̋͋͆͋́̓̀̒͘͘̚o̸̟͈̙̪̙̫͔̠͆̐̑̆̊̐̓̀̓̂̒͂̀ͅw̶̧̬̤̣͔͉̘̬̐͒͗́͋̅̋̂̾͐̈́͜͝ ̵̰͍̓͌̈́̃͐͗̃̌̕I̷̢̠̺͉̪̼̲͐̿̌́̅͗͒̀͜ ̷̳̩̳͍̼͌͜d̸̡̼͕̞̭̘̪̯̍̀̈́̀̎̈́́͠ȍ̵̱̥̲̊͆̽̃̏̆͠n̴̮͇͈̖̼͔̲̞̆̎̇'̷͉̮̓͋͜t̷̡̧͈͕̯̟̰̹̣̮̗̦͂̐̊̿̈́̊̽͘̚͝ͅ ̷̢̤̥̜̼̥͖͇̣̺̓͜͠k̵̛̝̲̣̟͈̓͋̐̈́̿͆̀̎̍̌͝ͅṉ̷̛̩̫̦̠̮́͗̽͑̔͗̾o̵͉̲͉͗̾̇̇̈w̵̡̘̩̹̪͔͕͔̱̖̽̎̊͘ ̵̨̖̱͙̳͖͇͚͙͕̞͇̒͆̓̐̔̇͛͐̚Ì̴̢̡͔̣̦͈̹̺̻̱̇ ̶͎̆͛̋̅̾̋̀̓̈́͌̿͝d̸̡̨̠͈̭̝̟̪̹͇̬̜̋̋̇̈́͝o̶̢͎̮̪͇͎͒̆͗̈́͒̒̃̈́͒̔̀̈́͐n̵̡͉͍͙̳͉̝͍͈̗̱͛̀̏͋́̄̏̄̍̾͘͝͝'̸̢̲̻̲̻̻͖̜͕͛̀͂́̎̀̚t̴͎̖͖̟͖͚͔͕̯̬̊̈́͐̏̆͗́̈́̕̚͜͠ ̸̟̤̰̒̾̕̕k̵̫̝̹͕̈̾̈́̚n̴̨̡̢̲͇͐͛̆̀͠ỏ̶͔̰̉̏̄̑̉̓̾̚͘w̴̢̪͈̓ ̷̡̨̫̰̻̗̬̟͕̻̗̄͂͋̽̀I̴̛͍̜͉̎͂͐̇́̅͆̂͌̑̚ ̴͇̉̆̌̊d̸̡̛͈̮̳͓̫̲̯͓͆̒́͑͐̐͐̓͝͠͠ô̷̦n̴̢͇̠̝͍͔͑̓̽̐̚̕̚'̷̲̙̙̣̩̯̈́̎͊̏t̶̤̩̺͇̳̅̓͒̋͝͝͠͝ ̵̧̜̖͙͍̣̱͂̐͋͛k̴̩͖̉̋̂ṅ̸̰͉̰́͒̾̍ǫ̷̨̣̥̝̹̣̹͉̩͇͐̍̅̈́w̶̠̽͂́̽̋̚ ̵͉͓͉̭̯̪͙̟͎̆̏̅͘͝Ḯ̴̢̧̢̧͚͓̞͉̗̺̘̞͑̾̈́ ̵̡̩̯̳̥̙̠̯̣̖̝̳̃d̴̢͚̟̱̜̜̟̤͙̪̩͑͛̂͒̅͆͗o̸͚̭͍̮̝̝͍̾͐̐͆̿̆͠ͅṇ̷̭͚̞͓̯̟̗͚̺̺͓͚̈͒̉̄̒͌'̷̬̩̬͚͕̮͈̖̬͓̘͗̑̿̐̊̓͒͂́͋͌̏̕t̵͎͚̤́ ̵̛͚̗͍̇͑̍̕k̷̪͕͆̀̔̏̅̃̄ͅn̴̘̺̭͂̈͒́̔͗o̵͍͖̭̮̞̖̱̥̤͛̿̀̀̋̿̎̏̄̉̕͠͝w̵̧͍̙̞͇̌̿ ̷̩̜̒I̵̡̟̼̗̠̜̰͒͊̕͝ ̴̘̻̪͕͚̼̹̾́̂̎̈́͛̏̀̊d̷̯̤̹͍͕̤̰̫̅̈́̂̒̔õ̷̞͖͚̜̲̳̜̗͎̹͕͑͘͝n̵͇͍̥̮͓͓͇̥̫̦̈́̌́̀̾͝ͅ'̵̡̧̯̗̯̮̯͖̪͎̠̆̒̂̅́̇͜͠t̷͔̜̲̓̀̂͐͂̔̕͝ ̴̧͎͍͙̘̺͔̝̖̫̫̻̯̐k̷̼̱͓̥͚̪̇̓̆̀̄̽̾̈́̒̚̕̚͝n̵̢̳̦͙͚̲̳̠̲͉̻̱̈́̌͐o̴͙͊̒͑͑̕͝ͅẃ̷̧̛̰̠̯̯̖̺̀̔̎̑̓̒̚͝ ̷̨̛̜͇̰̜̭͙͓̯̘͙̆͛͜I̶̞̖̠̍̅̏ ̷͍̟̪͇̭̭̞͗͘͝d̷̛̞͎͓̩͒̾͐̄̎͊̔̐̕ͅo̶̡̲̙͓͕͋͐̄͊͐̆͛̇̀͐́ͅņ̴̢̢̨̯̬̙͇̥͇̗̓̇̀̉̑̌͂̄́͘͝͝'̸̟͙̫͂̋̓̈́̑̒̈́͌̃̕̕͜ţ̵̭̫̫͍̫̳͔͕̥̔̈̎ ̷͓͑̂̍͌̚k̸̢̘̼͍͙͎̪͓̻̗̯͎̐͊̚ͅn̸̯̞͖̞̆̉͋̓͋̐̅̒͛͝͝õ̸̢͉͎͍̱͈̭̗̤̲̍̀͛̈̀͝͝w̶̛͇̩̓ ̷̨͈̦͙̯̠̼̖̓̒̊̏̓͂̅͐̎̕I̶̛͇͕̗̰͕ ̴͈̭̺̱̲͇̠̀̽͋͋̇̈́͜d̵͎̥̱̝͍̝̗͕̈́͗̄͜͝ö̸̧̯̺̞̣͈̠̖̫̖͇̟̰̈́̐̈͊͂͂̈̌͊̒͝ň̸̡͖͎͈͍̰̲̜͈̑͆̈̀̆̎̋̍'̶̝̫̺̭̜̮̱̞̝̈́͊̇̒̃ͅt̶̫͔͗͋̅̄͆̈ ̵̖͕̖̹̜̯̃͆͐̿̉̅͑̾̊͠k̸̲̫̭̤̞͇͚͉͌͛̊̕ͅn̸̲̳̼̙̰̗͗̉̏̀ơ̴͚͖̠͍̹̂͆͆w̶̢̨̢̰̙̪̮̰̎̈́̎̒͋̀͊̈̂̚ ̵̢̗͇̜̺̪͉̹͙̾́̌̆́͘̚Į̴̢̧̢̛͍͚̞͈͇̦̞̒̈́̓̋͗́̇̂̒̌̕̕ ̸̧͙͖̘͙̠̼̣̲̟͍̣̉͆͒͆̇̊d̵̛̜̩̻͙̥͇̋̍̊̕ͅo̸̱͖̼̲̫̦̖͔̥͚͉̣͐ͅn̶̡͓̜̲̫̱͙͔̼͍̎̈̄͜'̴̦̺͚̬̬̪̐͒̓̄̓͜ţ̴̜̤͖̼̝̻͑̀͑́̆͂̾͛͋̓̓͌ͅ ̶̧̡̛̭̪̻͖̟͇͕̰̫͇͌͆͒͆͆̇̊͑͆͗̕̕k̶̛͔̞̮͍͖̘̖̱̽͒̓̃̾́́̽͐͒͝n̷͕̪̫̮̝͈͋̍͋͗̔̽̀͂̈́̓͘͝o̸̬̞̼̻̯̗̜̟͉̾̍͒͊̎̍̈́̓̕ẇ̵̢͇̙͚̹͎͎̅̊̿͌́͗́̆͝ ̷̣̦̱̞̗̠̾̂̈́̿̈́͠ͅI̴̙͙̪̎̎̃̀̀̀̀ ̸̪̗̜͈͎̿̈̅̈́̔͆́̉̀̆͑̕͠d̸̼͗̓͊̈́̾̎͋́̕͘ǫ̸̠͚̬̘̭̩̯͍͋̓͛͊̔̿̑̈́͝ṅ̸̢̧̧̩̙̯̠͚̩̰͛͐'̴̡̡͍͚̳͚̺͖̭̪́͒̽͋̃́̃͂͆̈͘̚͝ͅt̷̢̛̮͇͚̯̫̼̥̤̏̓̅̒̉̔̑̓͋͝ͅ ̸̩͉̤̳̈̑̊̃͌͂̕k̴̨͇̮̰̦͈̞̠̺͕͆̓͆̚n̸̞̊̈́͒͑̐̇̂̓͐̽̚o̵͖̺̜̞̲̽͒͐̌̅ẅ̴̼̪̣͈͔̫́̂͂͐̐̃̌͜ͅ ̶̞̔̔́̀͠I̷͇̣̓̓ ̵̧͇̻̫̹̫̣̫̞͍͚͂̉̓d̶̰̪͚̅̍̅̏͘͠ơ̷̡͙͓̭͍̘̹̿͂̌͆͆ͅͅṅ̷͚̭͈̇̋̄̇͐͑̇̚͠͝'̵̹̺̙͕̣̗͔̖̤͇̙͗͆̕ẗ̷̨̞͇̬̝̝͙̬͖̠͈́͗̉́͋̊͘͠ ̷̹̃̓́ͅk̵͕̍̃̒͌̀̐͒̊͒n̷͙̦̘̥̠̔͐ơ̷͙̏̔ẃ̸̦̙͔̹̭͓͒͒̋͛ ̷͎̈́̀̀͆̔̊̈͛͑̚̕͠ą̴̛̘͍͚̹̬̮͋̆͐̑̄͜͝ń̵̛̖͍̙̗̰͕͇͎̗͑̆͒̄͊͠͠y̸͉̔̽̌̋̔̑͂̓̈́́m̶̢͇͕̰̞̝̺͕̝͒̓͆́̎̿̎̄͗͠o̶̺̺̱̣̗̲̣̔̾̆͜r̶̢͍͓̫͗̽̓̏͑͌̈́̓͂͘͜͜ę̴̟͍͎̜̮̠͑̌̏͝ͅ!̷̛̮̝͉̥͇̫͆̊́̐͗͋]

[There is a rock, pressed against her collarbone, the necklace she has worn since she arrived, covered in odds and ends from feathers to bone to stone, the black shard that so often doesn't feel warm, but usually is warm-]

[Burningburningburningburningburning]

[Taking the memory in her room, in the forest-]

[There is green and blue and green and blue and the world was so much more vast-]

[Where was she]

[Who was she]

[All she knows is words in a language that sounds of fire and death]

[She slams down the cup and screams-]

Edited 2021-05-20 01:19 (UTC)

[You're left that way for a bit -- seconds or hours, it's hard to tell when everything's so jumbled. But eventually you feel a solid hand on your shoulder, and the visions abruptly cut out.

You're in the happy bar. Everything is fine. Pavo's steadying you at the shoulder, with a slight frown.]

Did you see something ugly?

[She looks up, eyes wide, looking around frantically and when she speaks-]

[It's harsh and crackly, the way she speaks when she casts spells.]

[Infernal does sound like a devil's language.]

[This does not seem to particularly bother Pavo. It's an odd language, but he knows odd languages.]

You're alright, Poppy. It wasn't real.

[She closes her eyes.]

[Tugs at the elemental energy. She doesn't use it, just tugs it, because it is power she knows, it's power she's familiar with, and it is ultimately tied to the mind-]

[~~13+7=20~~]

It was real. [For her and-]

It wouldn't be present if there wasn't some truth in it.

You think so? Well, I suppose you could try to find the "truth" of this room, but...

[Pavo trails off, and Noctua finishes the thought for him. There's a feeling that that's natural. Not just because they're both pieces of the same heart, but Pavo & Noctua, specifically, operating as one.]

...You might not like what you see.

If you run from the truth, then where do you hope to end up? Lost and forgotten or worse.

[Well, she's not quite sure how 'Elemental Vision' works, that's not genuinely necessary....]

[So she'll try using it like she would to locate object. She's seen a lock before. Let's push the Elemental Energy through that lens.]

[When you try to search for that elemental trace, Elemental Sight seems to kick in on its own. It's another sense entirely, an overlay over your regular sight that reveals such traces -- the elemental trail from the door points vaguely off towards the corner, so perhaps that's where the lock is!

But also, when it activates, everything goes grey. The colour is instantly seeped out of the room, and the sounds of the rowdy bar fade to a distant din. The people are all still there, but you can barely hear them, and they are acting as if you don't exist.

All the frames on the walls have been turned backwards.

Noctua is cleaning the glasses behind a bar at which slumps a silent Pavo, with a greatsword through his chest. The only colour in the room is the blood spilling over the bar and his seat and pooling on the floor.

You're alone, now, except for Noctua's sharp eyes.]

Where "I" hope to end up... Is anywhere but here.

[There is a rush of defensive rage-]

[But]

[There is no combat to rush into, a moment to think, to reign in instinct.]

Then I would think red hair has a choice to make.

Or you have a choice to make in regards to him.

...but generally, I find deaths that happen in bars aren't are unavoidable as some like to think.

["Choices", huh...

Noctua remains impassive, setting down the clean glass in its proper place, and picking up another from the bar. There's blood on the underside, and that on the bar pools into the space left by the glass.]

That useless piece died years ago. As for choices... Anything in this bar only complicates them.

[She moves towards the corner where the lock might be.]

Whose the piece? And what's so complicated?

[On the wall, behind a free-standing cabinet, is the switch! You have to move the cabinet or reach in, but it's not too hard to get to.]

That? ...Something like a sense of security, I guess. But this place deals in emotions. Relationships. Attachments make it too hard to be objective.

Why? Attachments are the only thing worth having when it comes to dealing with complicated society. That sense of belonging.

[She will work on pushing the cabinet out of the way.]

"My" circumstances are a little unusual.

[He watches, but lets her do that on her own. It's not too heavy a cabinet, so it's pretty easy to move.]

[Oh good.]

[She puts a hand on the lock and looks over.] And what are those circumstances?

[And she's gonna force out the Elemental Energy again.]

[The lock lights up, and you hear a distant click!]

...Nothing I'd prefer to reveal. As a piece, it's not for me to deal with.

....

What would make him happier?

His relationships, or being objective?

Good question. Not one I have an answer for, though.

Hmm.

So why is he stabbed? Since....I think this is a dream? [Symbolism?]

[...what is she goes to look at those pictures. See what happens if she turns them back?]

[....maybe that sketch because she wants a closer look at horned panther, that sounds cool.]

[Her symbolism reading only goes so far.]

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

/?

/2

/3

4/4

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE

Re: ANGEL'S SHARE