#🎠 > 🕸️ fate's release 🕸️

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[ 🕸 ] Is there a Theseus to your "Ariadne?"

"Ariadne" paused what she was doing, whiling away the time by weaving some silks as she always had. These, however, were not those connected to Fate - they didn't glimmer with dew and pathways, but somehow retained the same strength of the special webbing holding up the blank realm where she sat.

"A Theseus? If there was or is, then I'm afraid I've forgotten about them. If I recall correctly, the mythos from which my name is taken dictates that Ariadne was abandoned by Theseus. Why should I care for someone who'd taken my help and then, despite everything, become selfish?"

There was an unprecedented bitterness to the woman's tone as she spoke, but it flattened out into indifference just as soon. She needed to remain the impartial judge, as much as it pained her not to have opinions.

"I have a mortal's memory when it comes to my own Fate. Sometimes this is a blessing, and sometimes this is a curse. I cannot truly decide which. Assuming this Theseus did exist, then... I wish them the best on their journeys. This will hold for as long as they stay away from me. I do not want another petty attachment, nor do I have one."

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[ 🕸 ] Is there a minotaur, either?

"Minotaur?"

This word was followed by a smile, then a genuine and bright laugh bursting forth from the normally composed woman. Her eyebrow raised inquisitively, and she looked aeons younger than usual for all of her childlike curiosity.

"How fascinating you all are... drawing these fun little comparisons. Just because someone is named for something doesn't mean they have to adhere to it. Wouldn't that get boring to you? Predicting peoples' lives just for a little title they didn't even get to choose at the beginning of their existence? That's a little cruel, if you ask me."

Though it sounded mocking, "Ariadne" meant no offence, and the smile remained on her face. She leaned fully forward, knees supporting her elbows.

"The - rather disappointing, though truthful - answer, my dear companion, is no. There is no Minotaur in my story. There is no need to escape from what doesn't exist. Within this realm, there has only ever been me and the webbing. The dew comes from no natural cause except for another life somewhere, and there aren't even other spiders. I am the lone Weaver."

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🕸️ Do you any desire to be in the likes of the fates or threads you weave? Or are you simply… content with such life? Even if you hold no memories, do you have not a wish to make new ones?

"Ariadne" laughs as the question is posed, though the usually joyous sound falls to become flat and emotionless. As if this is only dully amusing. She doesn't appear to be mocking anything, though.

"Desire? To continue on? Why would I even consider such a thing? Fate has its plans for me too, you know. Who am I to deny the very thing that gives me purpose?"

Her reply comes across as soft, wary, but there's a tone beyond her confusion - some semblance of sadness. Perhaps it was a lie, somewhere, however unintentional. It was important for her to keep up an unaffected front regardless.

"Even if I did harbour any will to change the destiny that's written in the threads I weave, such a thing is impossible. I am simply a watcher of what unfolds, and that is all I will ever be. I've no true dominion over what goes on; I simply make it happen, whether I want to or not."

"Ariadne" looks down at her hands, turning them over and inspecting the lines that ran across them, the grooves that had been left after so long holding and manipulating the spider's silk. They didn't hurt her, but the reminders would never leave.

"I can tell you with certainty that I've had a hand in making many things happen that have crushed me and my heart. The pain that I feel is irrelevant against the pull of the tides, and nobody is here to free me from this land.

My own life is here, beneath my feet, but I cannot see it. Maybe, someday, I will pull taut a web that releases me from this long and arduous path, but I can't choose when and if that will be."

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🕸️ Though you are akin to webs, what do you think about birds? Freely flying without any bounds in the skies, some would say.

"Ariadne" pauses for a moment, fingers laying flat against the web she was weaving. It takes a few seconds for her to gather that someone is speaking to her, at which point her eyes glance about before she finally raises her head.

Eternity in a realm with no other inhabitants gives one strange mannerisms.

Seeming to look out at nothing, the woman stands. Her gaze remains fixated on one point of the horizon, and lips curl back into an uncharacteristic snarl. Not much got on her nerves, but memories of one specific 'bird' resurfaced. Her spoken tone was rough and hostile, though it was only directed at them.

"I do not care for them. Just as they carelessly tear the webs spiders weave, they disregard the work of everyone beyond their line of sight. Solitary natures can be good, but they all simply wait until the nest is empty, and they no longer have to pretend like they care. I would not trade some ridiculous - and false - notion of freedom for my life here. I have my job to do, and I understand how necessary it is."

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🕸️ Have you always been the Fate Weaver?

The woman set down the threads she was weaving as the question was posed, confusion flashing across her features before it registered properly.

“Have I… well. To tell you the truth, it’s been so long since I took up this mantle that many of my memories have faded, and I feel like that’s one of them. If I ever wasn’t, I have no recollection of it now. Perhaps…”

She trailed off again, lost deep in thought, and made a few changes to the threads before continuing to speak, her eyes trained downwards instead.

“Perhaps that is Fate’s way of telling me I should be focusing on my job instead of dwelling on the past. Others can afford to do that, yes, but it’s only ever caused mistakes here. I have no power beyond that of a mortal when it comes to anything outside my job, and I am upheld to the same rules as any here - I cannot alter Fate.”

Confrontation was something that would always haunt her, no matter what lifetime she lived, and the realm in which she resided was almost always isolated.

“Unlike anyone else within my power’s reach, I cannot view my own Fate. So I can’t check on the past or the future - only live in the present. What’s forgotten is forgotten.”

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🕸️ What is fate to you?

Such a simple question, yet… it bore so much weight. For this individual, Fate was a folly, a friend, a foe… so many more things than could be articulated in the short time they spent with anyone.

There was nothing around to get bearings from in the mysterious pitch black, sure, but a figure in the distance seemed intent as ever to continue doing what they were doing. However, they soon beckon you closer, and you find that you're safe: each time you step forward, a spider's web cushions your footfall, slick with dew. It fades away as soon as you take your foot off.

Nothing for it but to continue…

With this phrase in mind, you soon reach "Ariadne" - the Fate Weaver, whose webbed button eyes glint in the room though the darkness seems all-consuming. She holds your gaze for a moment longer before it moves to a chair across from her. Was that really there a moment ago?

"Have a seat. As for your question… Fate is many things. But for me?"

She pauses, setting her hands down. Upon closer inspection, she held a dew-laden spider's web between her fingers, and had been passing it back and forth to weave it as if it were something as strong as the yarn of cat's cradle. It dissipates into the air within a blink. Steepling them instead, her tone grows grave.

"Fate, to me, is a more personal matter. I won't bore you with the details, of course, but it's my duty to the world. I watch over the many threads of Fate as they converge, twisting and deflecting and reflecting from and with one another. It is an endless and perpetual cycle. It is no more foreign to me than any other occupation would be to you. However, I have one thing to say to you that may be of more use than rambling. And don't challenge me for this. Face the consequences of whatever it may have in store for you yourself, and do so with confidence and pride."

She exhales through her nose, this seeming the only sound in the expanse of deep black surrounding the table.

"Fate is unchangeable."

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🕸️ ENTER YOUR FATE. 🕸️

"ARIADNE" / "THE FATE WEAVER" - THE EXILE'S LIMITED RELEASE S-TIER

“You have run away from those who cared for you. You are incomplete, and will always be.”

The Exile’s informal clothing gives way to a simple black dress, with the straps running across it that hold her Snares and other supplies having the appearance of glowing golden constellations. Similarly, the bag in which her Snares lie is golden. The pendant that always hangs about her neck is instead carved of true black opal, but retains the same shape. Her gloves give way to ones made of tan leather, with their bandages becoming interwoven straps. She wears a black leather sandal on her left [non-prosthetic] leg. Ivy wreathes up her legs, symbolising Ariadne’s connection to Dionysus, the god of wine.

Her hair becomes longer and ends in a braid at her mid-back interwoven with ivy. She wears a circlet of silver leaves, though it doesn’t touch her hair. Instead, it is stretched between two large bull’s horns [symbolic of Minos], which are cracked and dripping golden ichor. Her eyes are black buttons with silver threads resembling a spider’s web, and the webs glow brightly in darker maps.

Her Snares become golden threads, and when a survivor passes through them, they trail black or silver puzzle pieces for a short time while boosted according to her abilities. These reflect the faces of familiar Manor participants - notably Mike, Luca, Tracy, Burke [and possibly her father, Homura, the Hypnotist] - before fading. The aforementioned characters will not see any reflections. [The trail is a consistent mark across skins, but their appearance shifts according to the Exile’s skin.]

MATCHING ACCESSORY

Her special accessory is Corona Borealis - the constellation of Ariadne. It manifests as a golden serpent coiled into itself and hangs at her waist, with a black opal inlaid as the eye to match the pendant at her neck. A serpent will wrap around the character’s legs [or, in the case of characters like Hastur and Michiko without visible legs, will float around them] for as long as they are receiving the Snares’ effects. They also cause the puzzle pieces to warp and twist like puddles of water.

[[ I want this to be a [figurative] essence release but limited essence skins don't get accessories - until I flesh out her essence with more skins I'll keep her accessory in this post as if she's a shop package. ]]

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A New Costume. A New Face.

feature unlocked :: skin-specific asks!

[ simply put the appropriate emoji indicator, listed below, into the start of your ask to cue a response from a costume-specific portrayal of the exile. ] [ they will be linked appropriately when introduction/description posts are released, and all will be grouped within the "🎠 > into the dressing room" tag. ]

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🕸️ ARIADNE/FATE WEAVER - RELEASE S-TIER 🕸️ [ accompanying ask tag :: "🎠 > 🕸️ fate's release 🕸️" ]

⚔️ THE GLADIATOR - A-TIER ⚔️ [ accompanying ask tag :: "🎠 > ⚔️ fighter's summons ⚔️" ] + S-Tier :: "Novelist" - The Triumph + A-Tier :: Dream Witch - Marble Serpent + B-Tier :: Journalist - The Forsaken / Motivation + B-Tier :: Embalmer - Fruition + B-Tier :: Clerk - Destitution + B-Tier - Gravekeeper - Dereliction + B-Tier - "Nightmare" - Conviction 🎶 THE MAESTRO - B-TIER 🎶 [ accompanying ask tag :: "🎠 > 🎶 striking a chord 🎶" ] + Thank you to @manor-tea-time for this opportunity!~

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