natha: (Default)
ɴᴀᴛʜᴀ orbiters ❰ mod collective ❱ ([personal profile] natha) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-02-21 09:48 pm

( event ) FIRE & BLOOD

The atmosphere has been tense in both cities ever since the new batch of refugees were shot down out of the sky. Natives and refugees alike will note that things are steadily growing worse and worse... until suddenly, the tension snaps. Chaos erupts on one seemingly ordinary night and will continue until early March, when it all comes to a head. The question is, as always... what will you do?

You may submit an AC-eligible thread set in either Olympia or Wyver for 1 OLYMPIA REP POINT OR 1 WYVER REP POINT respectively, HERE or HERE, so long as the thread involves your character complying with their faction of choice's goals and responsibilities.

As a note, faction compliance in this case refers to actions that benefit the faction in the long term. Meaning that while citizens might be revolting against one another temporarily, assisting their fellow people and business will be considered as faction compliance for the purposes of submitting REP. (For example, raiding the palace in Olympia would earn 1 Wyver REP, whereas helping put out the fires in the palace would earn 1 Olympia REP.)

You may write threads and prompts in both cities, but ICly, they should take place on different days. Please also note that travel between factions is heavily scrutinized during the events of this log. If your character travels between cities, please report it here.
EMBERS IN OUR BLOODLINES    
CHAOS ERUPTS. The city hasn't been exactly peaceful for some time — discontented grumbles have been directed at anyone who exhibits even the slightest amount of pro-Wyver (anti-Olympian) sentiment — but now, the tensions have not simply worsened: they've outright snapped.

It wouldn't be unusual to start your day to the sound of breaking glass. Perhaps it's a neighbor's window, or if you're truly unlucky, it's your own. Regardless, it's clear that there are a number of people who decide that violence is the answer. Well-armed shops such as The Sharper are left alone, but The Silk Wyrms, The Wyvernest, and other smaller businesses aren't so lucky. Visit the tailor, and you'll find that someone has broken in and slashed many of the in-progress custom orders; at the dragon cafe, someone has set many of the miniature dragons loose in a bid to purge the city of anything tainted by Wyver's influence. Many shopkeeps are fearful that the culprits might return. They're offering good silver for anyone who will retrieve stolen goods, round up the missing dragons, or find proof of who the culprits were — and for protection in case the culprits return. Linger, and you'll be in a position to potentially stop a repeat attack when the rioters come back with torches and bricks.

Members of the Royal Guard have their hands full with the fights breaking out to attend to every instance of violence against the businesses. Shouting in the squares escalates into bloody brawls — and if you spend any time outside, you'll soon see why. There's a strange mist in the most populated parts of the city, which you may recognize as having similar effects to the waters of Flona Cove that lower one's inhibitions. It spurs those who would usually agree to disagree into shouting matches, and influences people who would normally shout into throwing punches. Members of the Guard, usually a mediating force, are joining the fray themselves.

Even you aren't immune to the mist's effects. Whether you're protecting your home or place of employment, chasing down vandals, rounding up escaped dragons from the dragon cafes, or even just observing what's going on with someone else, you're likely doing it much more aggressively than you typically would... but then, this level of aggression seems to be becoming Olympia's new normal.



SINNERS TO PLAY AS SAINTS. The theaters are miraculously untouched, but The Life and Death of Nithor the Exalted is no longer being put on. Instead, passers-by are being pulled onstage to play out other scenes from Olympia's glorious history. Those who don't want to play along don't have much of a choice; those orchestrating the scenes have people out in the crowds to bring people up by force if necessary.

The base scenario is simple enough: the noble Olympian puts the pathetic Wyvern in their place. Perhaps it's a fight scene: the Olympian comes out on top, of course, and the crowd roars for blood. Wyver weapons are only props, however, but the Olympian weapons? They're very, very real. Or perhaps it's a callback to when the Olympian people marked captured Wyverns with brands to assert their dominance — there is real fire, and real brands, on stage.

If you pass as Olympian, you may be pressed to perform. If you don't want to really hurt someone, you'd best learn how to fake it — refuse to play your part, and the crowd will very quickly turn against you. If you're too obviously not Olympian, or if they recognize you as someone who went off-script last time (and they have very good memory), you'll likely be pressed into the role of an unfortunate Wyvern. Hopefully your co-star is gentle...

Break a leg. Literally, as the case may be.



CRITICAL CONDITION. With all the chaos, it's only a matter of time before people start to seek medical attention. However, along the way to The Sanctuary, they'll be faced with an almost insurmountable barricade. It isn't immediately obvious who put it up, but it's clear that nobody will be getting through it without significant effort.

Approach, and a voice will ring out warning you to keep back. It's one of the employees at the clinic; she has a crossbow in her shaking hands, and if pressed, she'll admit that they put up the barricade to keep out rioters. She understands that there are people who need their help, but the decision was made to keep themselves and their supplies safe so that when the dust settles, they can set out en masse and help more people than they could if they were raided.

If you're accompanied by someone with grievous injuries, or if you're terribly injured yourself, you may be able to convince her to let you in for a quick patch-up, but they're not giving any medicines out. If you need more supplies, you'll have to figure out another way of getting it — either by overpowering the woman on watch and raiding the clinic yourself, or distracting her so that other members of your group can sneak in and take what they need.

Making matters worse is the gigantic vulture-like creature, much larger than the birds in Murkwell Hollow... and much meaner. This beast doesn't wait for eye contact before it attacks: it swoops down out of the sky when people are gathered at the barricade, snatching up anyone it can grab in its talons, fixing on whoever's closest. However, if someone who killed a vulture is present, it pursues them with relentless determination. If not dealt with, it will attempt to eat the dead and the injured without discrimination. It can be driven off with high difficulty using weapons, magical abilities (except fire, which doesn't affect it), and the terrain to your advantage. It will retreat before it can be killed, presumably so that it can regroup and harry the next batch of people to get close to the barricade.

As it retreats it will drop feathers that can be sold to the Institute for study for 100 silver; one feather per character, please. Sales can be reported here.



PALACE BURNS. Chaos reigns for the better part of a week, and toward the end, it escalates past the point of rioting in the streets — the violence reaches Empress Simwe's palace. In the gardens where Olympians and refugees alike had lit lanterns in unity and remembrance mere weeks before, one careless (or perhaps not so careless) flame catches, spreading to the rest of the grounds and to one of the palace walls. The members of the Royal Guard, already stretched thin, are too preoccupied with trying to contain the blaze to stop anyone from pouring in through the breach.

It's an opportunity that looters and dissidents do not pass up.

Follow them in, and you'll find the elegant surroundings being torn apart. Many of the rioters are those who have it out for Simwe and are hunting for her. As she's nowhere to be found, they settle for the next best thing: setting torch to her portraits. Portraits of the late emperor, on the other hand, are left untouched. The vandals are incredibly vocal in their displeasure with Simwe's policies, and almost fanatical in their opinion that life in Olympia would be much better if Simwe had perished in her husband's place. They turn to violence when the frightened maids and other servants don't have the answers they want as they leave a trail of fire in their wake. Will you use them as a smokescreen for your own venture, or will you intervene?

Further inside, the sticky-fingered will find furnishings, clothing, jewelry — anything that isn't bolted down is fair game. In the library, the gilded titles of priceless books glitter on the shelves; in the wine cellar, Simwe's personal collection of extremely fine vintages waits to be sampled; a mirrored room furnished entirely with pillows is draped in lacy underthings; fragrant salts and bottles of perfume sit in a steam-filled bathing room; in the treasury, looters are hard at work squirrelling away silver and carrying off golden baubles. Nobody looks too closely at anyone's face unless given a reason to, but in the morning, heads will certainly roll. You could make off with your own treasure from the palace with none the wiser, or you could stop one of the looters — maybe it's even a fellow refugee — and turn them in to the guard to help restore some order to this night of chaos.

In the depths of the treasury, there is a group trying to get past a sealed door. They're an unpleasant, volatile lot, and they make a lot of noise about how if they can just get their hands on the heart of the legendary dragon, they'll be able to wipe Wyver from the map once and for all and put someone competent on the throne. After multiple failed attempts, they start offering a reward of 50 silver to anyone who makes an attempt at opening the door.

ABOUT THE DOOR: The inner treasury door is enchanted to stand up to all manner of assaults, both magical and physical. Any attempts to dispel the enchantment will fail, but characters are welcome to make attempts in exchange for cash. While minor force will be harmlessly absorbed by the shields on the door, anything of great strength will be reflected back at its point of origin — so be ready to dodge!

Whether you help the Guard put out the fire, steal from the palace, try and get past the enchanted door, or make attempts to stop the looters, your actions may have consequences later. Please report any significant actions you take here.

NOTE: Characters are welcome to steal a single minor, setting-appropriate item from the palace. Mod approval is not required. Any items of greater import in the palace are locked in a vault and inaccessible.

BLOOD ON MY HANDS LIKE THE BLOOD IN YOU    
FOR GLORY. Meanwhile, in Wyver, the holiday celebrating Nithor's death may have finished, but the spirit is still high. The citizens, eagerly awaiting the results of the contest from earlier in the month, congregate at a large stadium in the East End on the morning of the 21st and encourage refugees to join them — not only will the contest winner be announced, but there will be a series of physical trials to select Wyver's best and brightest. This yearly event is considered the true end to the holiday. They honor those who excel at the arts — whether they be standard arts or the art of combat — and with these trials, they will honor those who excel on the battlefield. King Shanrian himself speaks to kick off the festivities, holding a distinctly human skull in his hands the entire time he's in view.

Everyone, join me in praising the winners of our citywide contest! I was, heh... quite delighted with the meat jelly dish submitted by citizens Clair and Frederick. Such creativity! Meanwhile, dear Shenya loved hearing the beautiful music provided by Diva and Tani Umenosuke. And as you all well know, his vote is my vote.

Now I speak to you on a more serious note: I encourage all of you to join the legacy of those who helped bring down the mad and oppressive Nithor. I ask you all to join the trials. Show the world that we are a people of honor. For we do not seek glory, but fairness, liberty, and truth. Citizens, do you have what it takes to represent your home?



Signing up is simple. Interested parties are to submit their name at the registration desk, and by high noon, the festivities will kick off in full.

First up is a tournament — to thin the numbers down and ensure that only the best of the best make it to the end, participants are matched to a fight until one side is incapacitated. The air is thick with excitement, and bouts continue all day and through the night. Vendors have set up temporary stalls to sell food, toiletries, pillows, and blankets for those who don't wish to miss even a moment of the action.

If you're participating, you will take part in three fights before the finalists are determined; if you are not, you will be free to watch from the audience or, if you're acquainted with people who are fighting, to go behind the scenes to assist them by bringing them water or medicine between matches or even just give them moral support. Either way, you'll notice a slight shift in the air as time goes by.

Midway through the preliminary matches, the atmosphere changes from enthusiastic to outright bloodthirsty. Observers who were content to see a knock out will call for blood. People will start to clamor for the losers to lose their lives, and audience members will find themselves itching for a fight. One wrong look and the fighting might not just be constrained to the ring.

Make it through to the finals, and your trial will be more focused on teamwork: after all, the assassins who took down Nithor had to work together to get their job done. Finalists are paired off to face a variety of beasts, some from Wyver, some from Olympia, and some from other, far-flung parts of the isles. There is no set number of winners — anyone who performs well will be honored with a prize of silver at the end — but the beasts are ferocious, and it will take coordination and exceptional skill to make it out unscathed.

Either way, it's sure to be a spectacle.



HEARTY DIETS. The city's atmosphere does not become peaceful with the conclusion of the trials. Wherever you turn, the people around you seem to be more combative than usual - and in this city, that can be quite the feat.

To mark the end of another successful set of trials, the shamans of the Altar of Volkkra make dragon's blood, which they partake in for one of their rituals, more widely available to the public. Most drink it straight, although there are some who take it mixed in with other drinks. Either way, the effects are the same:
Drinking dragon's blood will feel like drinking liquid fire. It will burn the entirety of its way down and leave you with a presence in your chest that you will carry with you for three days before wearing off. It is a warmth that seems to imbue you with the strength and confidence of the dead dragon. The adrenaline will minimize any great pains, and you will have the sense that the path you choose is right.

Unfortunately, there is a downside. The dragon blood will keep you restless until the effects wear off. Confidence will turn into mindless arrogance. If you and your companion both drink the blood, you will butt heads because you will believe the other is wrong. Additionally, you may experience the need to hoard. The shamans say it is a trial you must endure to learn not to overindulge, but to someone who has never drank before, the feeling will be overwhelming.
Dragon's blood isn't the only variety to partake in. This time of year, the blood of a variety of monsters can be found to drink; it's said that consuming a creature's blood will imbue you with that creature's power. Whether this is true or not remains to be seen — some insist it's a rumor, while others swear its veracity — but fueled by the confidence the dragon's blood has drawn out of them, the natives are very insistent that you try it out, and some may even challenge you to a blood-drinking contest.

There are some who say that they've managed to procure the blood of Olympians, and that ingesting it will sap the strength of the Olympian people and bestow it upon Wyver instead. Some Wyvern natives aren't willing to allow the blood of their most hated enemies past their lips and would instead use Olympian blood to paint out scenes of their destruction, either on the walls like the murals or on charms from the Altar of Volkkra, as it is said to have the same effect. If you're offered some of this "paint," it's probably better to accept. After all, refusal would be very un-Wyvernlike, and you wouldn't want to be marked as the next target for someone hoping to procure Olympian blood, would you?



FANNING FLAMES. Since the trials, natives have lit bonfires throughout the city as a way of showing support for their favorite contenders; the belief is that as long as the flames continue to be fed, the contender will continue to fight well. Even now that the trials are over, the flames burn bright. These contenders are Wyver's hope of victory over Olympia, after all; isn't it better to keep the fires ablaze until they've brought the Olympians to their knees?

But it isn't just wood that they're using for kindling. This time they want a more personal offering. Many of the natives will shed their own blood to throw into the fire, and still more roam the streets in search of people to feed to the flames. You might find yourself one of their targets if you've been too noticeably traveling between the cities on a regular basis, or if you've made the mistake of donning the Olympian colors of white and gold even in a subtle way. Perhaps you come off as a loyal citizen of Wyver, and they've tapped you to assist them with feeding a person to the flames — If you refuse, you might face scrutiny yourself.

Chaos is on the rise. It's a bastardization of celebration that has long since gotten out of hand, although few seem inclined to try and contain it. Those who do are mainly shouted down or silenced by other means, and if you're looking to assist them in quelling the unrest, you'll have to be subtle lest you wind up facing the citizens' ire.

Luckily, there is something to provide a distraction: a gigantic vulture-like creature, much larger than the birds from Murkwell Hollow, has come to hunt . When it descends, it makes to grab anyone with its talons, with one exception — if anyone who killed a vulture in Murkwell is nearby, it will ignore the others and focus its attempts on tearing them apart with a relentless, single-minded determination. If not driven off, the dead and the injured will become its next meal, and it has no qualms about diving into the flames to snatch up bodies, as it's unharmed by fire. It can be driven off with high difficulty using weapons, magical abilities (other than fire), and the terrain to your advantage, but will retreat before it can be killed so that it can regroup and make another attempt at snatching up bodies later.

As it retreats it will drop feathers that can be sold to the Altar of Volkkra for experimentation for 100 silver; one feather per character, please. Sales can be reported here.



BEASTLY EXHIBITS.The shamans of Volkkra, perhaps under the influence of dragon's blood, have their own way of dealing with the unrest. Throughout the week, those protesting the chaos start to vanish, and either from rumors or direct observation it will soon become obvious why: they're being brought to the main Altar of Volkkra, all the way up on Namarak Summit. If you have been attempting to calm people down, you might just find yourselves taken; otherwise, you can tail the shamans to the summit to find what's going on for yourself.

Those taken to the main altar are blindfolded and thrust into the labyrinthine halls without a flame to guide their way. Shamans guard the entrances and exits; inside, all light but that of the Eternal Flame have been extinguished. Other shamans, who take part in the rumored experiments, roam the halls with wicked-looking knives in search of new test subjects. If they come across you, you'll need to either fight or run.

It is possible to escape this, either by overpowering them or by using your wits. It's even possible to find your way to the entrance and fight your way past the shamans guarding it — but the when the first person sets foot out of the halls, the shamans call for backup. Menacing shrieks and roars sound from inside the mazelike halls, and strange, mishmashed creatures emerge from the darkness.

They're angry, and they're willing to lash out at both refugee and shaman alike.

ABOUT THE MONSTERS: They are amalgamations of people and creatures from all over the isles, and each one is different. One might have the head of a Duldrum, the torso and arms of a man, and the lower half of a Glowing Snake; another might look like a Wispurr with a second head of an Unlucky Cat grafted onto it, and the abilities to match. The shamans seem to have been mixing and matching the features and abilities of both named and unnamed creatures as they see fit, and they've whipped them up into a frenzy — these chimeras crave blood, and will not stop until their targets are dead, or they are.

They can be killed with medium difficulty using your own weapons, supplies from the Altar, and any abilities you might possess; survive, and the shamans will let you go with 200 silver as compensation, having decided that you've proven your worth and that your strength may be an asset to Wyver in the future. If your character successfully kills a chimera, please report it here.


FINAL OOC NOTES    
An AC-eligible thread in which your character complies with their faction's goals for 1 REP POINT FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE OR HERE RESPECTIVELY BY MARCH 14th 11:59 PM EST.

We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP.

1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR.
originallutece: would be what they'd call this emotion if i was 12 (happy; delightfully impudent)

[personal profile] originallutece 2018-03-11 10:05 am (UTC)(link)
Soon, then.

[Once all this madness ends. And more importantly: once she's had a chance to figure out how to explain Robert to Prompto. It's not the kind of thing you spring on someone, after all.

Besides: though it isn't as if his opinion makes or breaks her, Robert is . . . personal. Intimately so. To have anyone look at their relationship with shades of disgust or misunderstanding leaves her feeling sick. Much better to hide it, her logical mind says, but she ignores it. This isn't about logic.

There's a shout from outside, something from a block away, and Rosalind's smile disappears.]


Are you still determined to go out?
fisherwife: (Don't drag this out.)

[personal profile] fisherwife 2018-03-11 12:51 pm (UTC)(link)
The 'powerful, god-like being' part doesn't even register. It's just about teaching you a lesson.

[She shivers and decidedly does not entertain the idea of Mephisto on his knees or anything like that. There's a time and a place and this was neither!!]

But shouldn't we focus on one thing at a time here?
fisherwife: (The joke is on me)

[personal profile] fisherwife 2018-03-11 01:13 pm (UTC)(link)
That's because you've never been on the wrong end of my trident before. [She manages to keep her tone lightly sarcastic though, a small joke in this bleak time.

She looks off-screen a moment and sighs
] I hate to cut this short, but I have to get back to work. Let's talk again once things have settled and I can get to Wyver to see your friend.

[She looks back at the screen, smiling lightly.] And please be careful.
vorrutyer: (ahhhhhh boobs)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2018-03-11 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Good question. As instinct recedes and conscious thought rushes back to fill its place, he tries to take stock to answer that question - are you...? Hurt? Good heavens, yes. His ribs are an agonizing mess, and there's a twang of deeper pain that makes him exquisitely certain that one of those ribs has gone and stabbed something else in him when it moved around. There's a blistering pain along his back and the back of his head (oh, god, please don't let his hair have been scorched off, he can't even imagine how ugly that would look), and his knees feel bruised and his hands hurt. But -

Are you okay? He bites back the whimper of pain he wants to let out, and instead lets out a shaky - ]
Fine. [ Then he lifts his head away from Prior's to look into his face, to search his eyes, hand coming up to cup his cheek. ] You...? Are you - ?
emblazes: (pic#12130820)

[personal profile] emblazes 2018-03-11 01:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[He's lying in wait; letting her toy with it a bit. The creature isn't very bright, considering it had ample time to study the pair of them and now it's only engaged with one...but it's fine. Now isn't really the time to ruminate on the cognitive abilities of animals in general, or how long a memory lasts.

Waiting isn't his forte. Prematurely, once the creature's back is toward him and Mai seems to have a good handling on it, he's darting forward -- making sure to move with it, stick to its blind spot. Trifling at times, considering how large the creature is by comparison. He pivots up once he's able to, somehow using the arena itself like a diving board (ignoring gravity, as he does sometimes) as well as his weapon to launch himself atop the creature's back and...

Immediately stab it between the shoulder-blades with that extendo-blade. He's not sure if this is a fatal point for the creature, but he was initially just aiming to keep himself anchored to the beast.]
emblazes: (pic#12014087)

same

[personal profile] emblazes 2018-03-11 01:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[His grip isn't overly firm, but her upper-arm should feel a squeeze coupled with a tug. He's guiding her off -- or trying to. He's not going to pull her like a dog that doesn't wanna walk.]

It's the best case scenario for him.

[Keith hasn't any reason to be so angry -- angry to the point of subtle threats. Yona's fine, he doesn't even know that guy.]

It'll be worse if he makes it back. Let's go, before his friends show up.

[If he has any...dickheads somehow always move in big flocks. Ha ha...]
semblant: (pic#12120866)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-03-11 02:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[The backdrop is appropriate, at any rate.]

And so you've been altered?

[By the mafia. Infogathering seems to be a mutual thing today. A sigh marks that query, despite.]

Does the term 'chiropteran' ring a bell?

[He's not optimistic, despite how prominent it'd all been back home. It's worth a shot -- the easiest route to an explanation.]
semblant: (pic#12120867)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-03-11 02:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[First of all: he didn't ask for this.]

Thank you.

[The compliment just fortifies the fact that he must look like a dipshit. Hardly the most concerning thing that's being discussed, however.]


...Oh? [He's scanning her fingers, suddenly. They're messy.] Was that established before or after your song?

[To gauge the fakeness of it.]

Are they still among the living?
semblant: (pic#12120871)

[personal profile] semblant 2018-03-11 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[Similarly, it isn't often he's so brazen with his opinions. Blood-related especially. The bucket catches his eye for a moment longer than it should. Allowing himself to indulge and take advantage of this asinine situation should be a no-brainer.

But perhaps he already has. Discreetly, among the chaos.]


I don't expect you have the means to preserve it.

[And so his gripes are rendered completely worthless. Even so, it's like watching a child fingerpaint with dinner. Squandering.]

At least you haven't picked up any strange habits from that temple.

[He's being his normal-strange self.]
dorzalta: (pic#12130779)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-03-11 03:42 pm (UTC)(link)
It could never be that easy. Of course it couldn't, not with duty and a strong sense of responsibility chaining him down. He's stupidly stubborn in that regard, but such stubbornness is one of the reasons she'd fallen for him. It's unfair of her to ask this of him, she knows. Selfish to do it anyway.

She looks away with a quiet sigh, folding her arms over her chest.

"But you won't." Not when his family is here. He'd established this life for himself. How rotten of her to ask him to abandon it. "I can't blame you for that. I want to, but I can't."

She would have to forge her own life, finding meaning in these lands separately from him. It sounds a lonely thing; nevertheless, she'd done it before.

"Don't be so reckless while I'm gone."
maipokerface: ([005])

[personal profile] maipokerface 2018-03-11 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[Mai waves a hand dismissively at the question. Even now that dragon's blood is like fire inside of her and she actually itches to get back into the fray even as she leaves it.

She briefly wonders if being a bender feels anything like this and then dismisses the thought in the same breath. Firebenders may be more potent when the sun was out but they certainly didn't turn into this.]


Yeah, trust me, I'm fine. That dragon's blood is some potent stuff.
maipokerface: ([002])

[personal profile] maipokerface 2018-03-11 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[It may not be immediately fatal but it's certainly annoying. The Tauros howls in anger and pain as the blade sinks in then starts trying to turn around and grab at whatever is latched onto and into it's back.

Mai can't help but sort of stand there a moment. Keith is now more or less riding the thing and it's trying to turn in these tight circles, first in one direction and then the other, swiping it's hands as well as it tries to grab at him. It makes aiming for anything a little difficult. Likewise now would be the perfect time for a remark of some sort but she tempers it for the moment.

Eventually the animal tires of slinging whatever it is on it's back around and sets it's sights on the one person it can see. Mai has different plans however and now that he's stopped swinging, she can get a good enough mark on her target to let loose more blades.

She aims more for the chest than the legs, not entirely risk it falling with Keith on it's back.]
winecasks: (pic#10819774)

No worries! I've been pretty slow as well

[personal profile] winecasks 2018-03-11 04:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ This may be the one instance in which Grantaire’s alcoholism works in his favor. Although not completely inebriated, he really is the very image of a drunkard, disheveled and glassy-eyed, occasionally swaying on his feet. It’s enough to convince most of the men, particularly when Grantaire continues to just keep speaking. ]

Ah, yes, I’m certain I might have. I swam through the evening. That is all I recall. Tell me, monsieur—

[ Grantaire steps forward, right up to the scrutinizing man, overexagerating his stumbling gait just a little bit. ]

Am I swimming now? I’ve died by gunfire, but to die by drowning without setting foot in water—that would be a new feat.

[ The man looks puzzled and sneers, taking a step back when he sees just how bloodshot the drunkard’s eyes really are. He speaks to his companions, says something about how Grantaire must be touched in the head and he isn’t worth offering to the flames. When they’ve moved on, Grantaire turns to Yona, smiling kindly. ]

I suppose they might be right. Thank you.
colorature: (Default)

[personal profile] colorature 2018-03-11 05:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Before.

[If he's looking for a ring he won't find one. It was a verbal agreement, after all.]

His name is JJ. He's a king and yes, he's still alive.

[Pause.]

You better not kill him.
meinwaifu: (Aren't you precious ♪)

[personal profile] meinwaifu 2018-03-11 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[In a little sing-song voice--] And yet you still didn't deny it~

[He's totally bringing this up later to tease her more.]

Ah, in any case-- it looks like we've arrived!

[They're near the edge of the theater district now, which is seeing no less violence, but far less destruction. The building in front of them, a large apartment complex, seems to have already been boarded up.]

This building was set to be demolished sometime in the next few months, so it's mostly abandoned. It should be a safe place for these two to rest for a while.
summertimeblues: http://www.hollow-art.com/users/jessecuster (022)

i can't believe i thought of J.E.J.'s Othello before Star Wars....go look him up in Fences ASAP!!!

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-11 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Darth Vader. Of course — his mind had fucked off too far to think of what was probably the most enduring of the man's work, in spite of the accolades for A Great White Hope and all those Shakespeare and Iceman Cometh rave reviews that leaked out as far as even L.A.

His mind flashes and he looks momentary flummoxed. Moreso than he already is. Does he deny it? Does he brush it off? Play dumb? He doesn't get it himself, probably won't ever get it, so leaning into stupidity and shock wouldn't be lying.]


Ha ha...I'd thought he'd gobbled up a bad fish fillet earlier and it was coming back for revenge, myself.

[He couldn't explain if he tried. Only twice in his life has that miracle occurred. And this time there's no werewolf tugging at Bill's heels as he crawled out of 29 Neibolt. This time there's no plastic clown, twenty feet tall and with wet rolling eyes and pupils that blew wide and dark and all-consuming, leaning down to waft him with scavenger breath through the bloody red mouth with all the pointed teeth. "I can point at your mouth and your stupid flapping tongue will turn into so much running pus. I can do it, Richie. Want to see?"

This isn't the time. This isn't the place. He hopes those are crossroads he never has to tread.

He's only trying to help, but the other man is flinching back, squawking like he'd been dabbing vinegar into the open wound. Richie's hand spasms when he's snatched and and halted at the wrist, watching the show with a deep disturbance.]


What the fuck? Of course you're bleeding, that's why I'm trying to help you! What's the pro...

[Then his face goes slack.

It occurs to him just what sort of man he's in front of. What time he's from. Richie's eyes flick down to that sorry lagging leg and he can't see anything bleeding through the trousers. It could be a bandage underneath, it could have been a hurt from something stupid, some mission from Voss or Cree.

With how close to summoning every dog in the five block square Prior was, he began to doubt that very much.

Richie pulls back, wrist slipping loose (slick with blood, coated and cooling in the winter air with that blood) and his hand flexing uselessly. He almost drops the shredded jacket. And yet, the shame that fixes his face is immediate. Treating a leper like a leper, he is, but recoiling from a man in need doesn't sit so comfy in his gut.

He looks in Prior's eyes. Distraught and horrified. They're probably close to being mirrors of one another. He pats his hand against his pant leg and the red mark there sits like a tattoo. It shames him further, and he ceases to try cleaning himself. Clenching and unclenching fists.

Finally, he shakes his head.]


God, what do you—there's gotta be something I can do for you! You took a brick to the face!
phykios: (♆ time to sass gods.)

[personal profile] phykios 2018-03-11 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he's going to point out: ]

I think it's fair to apologize for getting someone stabbed.

[ even if she hadn't gotten hurt in this instance. but he'll let it drop after that. ]

Where in the city? [ then -- ] If you're saying that because of me, I wouldn't be so sure. The mortals in New York live regular lives.
summertimeblues: (067)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-11 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[Richie pulls a face. Turns? Really?] What kind of crap partnership is this? Are you gonna sit back and kick up your feet after every time you contribute?

[Either way, they ought to get up to something before someone got the munchies and came around the pantry. Richie's hands settle on his hips and he too chews judiciously as his eyes dart around the place.]

I don't see any robes. They're probably in a different closet, who keeps the laundry in with the food? [He moves to the door then, crouching some to see how generous the keyhole is. It's rather lacking, giving him a mere slit of light and a blank wall to stare at. Richie huffs, grunts out a hushed—] Cut the lights, will you? [— and cracks the door open to a sliver. He peers into the hallway in absolute silence.]

All quiet. We can probably sneak out. There's a few doors ahead, not a soul around. Are you good to zap us out again if we get caught?
revlon: (104)

[personal profile] revlon 2018-03-11 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She huffs out a breath then nods, a concession to his first point. Then: ]

So did the ones in mine, [ she fires back with a there-and-gone flash of amusement in her eyes. ] But that doesn't mean there wasn't more happening behind the curtain, does it?

[ Only a very precious handful of people are aware she was — is — a spy. And she isn't about to reveal that to Percy even if she knows he's a good partner to have along in a fight. It could be as offhand as she makes it sound; it could mean politics, it could mean something more sinister. Espionage is never anyone's first guess because it's often too outlandish to even consider. The benefits of the profession.

She threads the needle then shifts the kit out of the way with only a flicker of a wince across her face. The conversation helps her ignore how much breathing hurts (never mind that one must breathe to speak, let alone live; inconvenient, really). ]


I lived in a few different apartments in the city. [ She leans in to work, the soft pop of the needle through skin barely audible over her voice. ] Upper Fifth Avenue, for the most part, but that was in 1947. Not that it matters — our cities may share a name, maybe even a common history, but that's probably where the similarities end.
Edited 2018-03-11 18:39 (UTC)
respired: i keep my enemies closer than my mirror ever gets to me (i don't do anything for free)

[personal profile] respired 2018-03-11 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Admittedly, not the reaction he expected. His eyes widen slightly as he realizes that the mist must be affecting her, too. He can't really blame anyone for losing themselves to violence, especially violence engineered by something beyond their control, but he bristles at her regardless.

Unwisely, he advances. ]


Should I have left you to the wolves, then?
respired: the beast you've made of me (if you could only see)

[personal profile] respired 2018-03-11 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Cain's undeterred. That's not a surprise. The man has no sense of self-preservation.

It pisses Koltira off. ]


I'm here to help.

[ He gestures to the chaos beyond, to the riots, the shouting. The air is thick with anger and fear, and the effect is heady, worse than the mist. He feeds on it, literally. He can hear another fight breaking out not far away--people arguing over loot stolen from a shop. Criminals to be put down. ]

Step out of the way.
inaurare: (Glancing)

[personal profile] inaurare 2018-03-11 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
I thought it was related to-- [lowering his voice, in case his words might be misconstrued as dismissive-] this Nithor business. I hoped it would settle, once the festival was over, but...

[...evidently not. He feels a bit of a fool for hoping for a quiet life]

...there is nowhere that feels safe, right now, and I don't like that.
fiendennor: (18)

[personal profile] fiendennor 2018-03-11 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[She sighs as she realizes Haru is seeing right through her bluff.] Honestly, flying isn't the problem; I can do that one-handed. I need another hand for my wand, though.

[She glances up at the sky. She thinks she can still see the bird as it circles.] I'd rather not take the resources of the Sanctuary, if at all possible-- my own magic should be more than sufficient; I doubt they can do more for it beyond what I've already done.

[She frowns slightly.] Haru... might I trouble you to help hold the sling in place as I re-set my arm? It'll be easier with someone else.
baguablade: (94)

[personal profile] baguablade 2018-03-11 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ No, no, using his body accordingly would be fetching and carrying, following Cain around, looking menacing and handsome in turns, that sort of thing. Not getting himself hurt for Cain's sake!

Although being a handy torch isn't a bad use of Reinhardtzar, either, even if Cain could do without the manhandling. Cain sniffs, but he does let Rein pull him back, peering around Rein's arm — why is it so muscled to get a better glimpse at the room.
]

Not really. It looks like a storage closet. [ Cain elbows his way out of Rein's hold and starts poking through the shelves. He adds, dryly: ] I don't think I'm in any danger from a mop.

[ But as he makes his way farther in, he hums thoughtfully, pausing in front of one section of shelving. There's something about the wall here, a faint bit of a draft blowing through, a seam in the wood that isn't quite right... ]
almaredemptoris: (Default)

[personal profile] almaredemptoris 2018-03-11 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
I am more formidable than I may appear.

[He answers quietly, not out of overweening pride but out of the necessity for truth. Nevertheless, his obdurateness is beginning to give way to Cam's reasoning. Jean Valjean ought to know better than anyone how desperation drives a man to scatter caution to the wind: desperation was the master steering him the night he broke that window to thieve bread from right beneath the noses of a sleeping man and woman. Thus he reluctantly concedes:]

But perhaps you are right...