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.
summertimeblues: (071)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
((i'm back online, if you need to move on do not be afraid to drop this!))


[He's hardly the authority on blood and the human body. Plus he's in a panic. Get that girl to the emergency room, make sure Kelly Brackett is on his way. Not to mention it's dark, they're both bushed and in bad need of Zs after how many days of watching that other shoe drop. Richie does notice that for how deep the puncture went, it's looking pretty damn relaxed. Maybe horror films set up bad expectations for how much blood should be gushing out of where. Anything to get the audience riled up, add in an extra twenty pints for a good old fashioned soaker.

Either way, she's displaying the same cavalier attitude she'd gone into the cockpit with way back on entry. Twice the suicidal tenacity this time, too. Richie hisses, snagging her by the sleeve and trying to pull her back.]


Don't be an idiot! What do you expect to do? Bleed on it?!
summertimeblues: http://www.hollow-art.com/users/jessecuster (011)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
((i'm back online, if you need to move on do not be afraid to drop this!))

[Prior looks shocked to see him. Probably a combo of the stinky situation and the first glimpse of him in the flesh. What a crapshoot of a blind date, huh? He's had worse to be sure, but it's hard to think how when they're both barely armed in the line of fire. If they lived through this and squeeze out of the nooses these yokels planned to lynch them in, maybe they'd get some good chucks in about inauspicious meetings after.

For now?]


Fuck Frankenstein, it's outsiders in the hour of dissent! [Yeah, their little gift-wrapped housing units were so cozy to start with, but holing them all up in one place now seems like a massive oversight. Prior might be living in better places, or alternative quarters, but this was the building Richie and his generation of freshly woken snoozers were given. Might as well be a big old bullseye, lurid red and painted forty feet wide on the whole complex.

He's about to say more, but then the brick hits and Prior's close to playing bowling ball to Richie's pin. There's a terrible scrape, flash of blood. Richie feels the stuff in his veins freeze cold. Sympathy pangs to mix with the adrenaline panic. He rights them both with some fumbling, but the shock and stumble don't stop him up. Rather, something bubbles up and out, furious as the brick pitcher laughs and moves forward, ready to crack them with the torch this time.

Richie doesn't think, doesn't plan. It just happens. If Prior's had any contact with their most diminuitive refugee, he might swear the raccoon had gotten swallowed up and was spitting his venom out of Richie's throat, Philadelphia brawl and crass ready for the scrap.]


A brick?! Who throws a frickin' brick? What're you gonna go for next, tough guy? Roof shingles? Why don't you go back to building shacks and leave the fighting to the big boys?

[The man was so eager to thrash them good that he's still mid-stride and swinging that torch when he gets a hurtful something in the gut. He makes a loud squawk, dropping the torch and fumbling his footing, grasping at his middle like he'd taken a punch. But nothing had touched him.

Nothing except...

Richie's eyes blow wide, dinner plates on the marble white of his face. He tugs at Prior with shaking hands. It shouldn't work like that, he thinks, not like this, not outside of Derry, not on people...]


Come on...

[He sets them running. Even if he has to drag the other man, he'll do it. The fallen man's comrades all look stunned, but they're still trying to make a run for them. Richie aims them at another alley way.

If they can just get clear, get Prior's face to stop leaking like a split in a dam, then he can spare the time to flip his shit over these strange turns. For now, they just need to live.]
daemonized: (206)

[personal profile] daemonized 2018-03-07 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[That elicits a scoff.]

Well, and how am I supposed to know that? Or would you like for me to guess?
originallutece: no wait yes i do I TOLD YOU SO (talk; i don't want to say i told you so)

[personal profile] originallutece 2018-03-07 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)
You've been alive for two thousand years, Ardyn.

[She finally sits up, frowning. The sudden movement leaves her wincing, because those stitches are brand new, but whatever.]

You can't tell me you haven't been killed at least once. The difference is that it doesn't stick when it's you.
Edited 2018-03-07 21:17 (UTC)
daemonized: (211)

[personal profile] daemonized 2018-03-07 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
That isn't death, Rosalind. That is simply an inconvenience when and if it happens.

[To Ardyn, there is a big difference. Death is a finality, a release. It not sticking is not death.]

I regenerate very quickly and I do not damage easily. It would take something of immense power to wound me so badly that I would even draw close to that line.
originallutece: awful tough lately (talk; you've been acting)

[personal profile] originallutece 2018-03-07 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
And has it ever before?

[She's not just asking because she's nosy. There's a genuine interest in her gaze. And though she loathes being reminded of the age difference between them, there's something a little bit wide-eyed in her interest: because of course this is interesting, a fascinating look into what might well be her own future.]
daemonized: (05)

[personal profile] daemonized 2018-03-07 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[depends on which route you took in the dlc]

I have incurred injury before, of course. But it would heal so quickly that I would label it... superficial, no matter how deep the cut, or how many bullets might've been embedded in my body.

[He shrugs, a flippant contrast to her stark interest.]

Perhaps it is easier for you to understand if I put it this way: only divine power can truly, fatally harm me.

[Unless he had been compromised in this world, in ways he did not realize that. But he felt the same, and had no reason to think otherwise.]
originallutece: we'll be gone (neutral; then soft as shadows)

[personal profile] originallutece 2018-03-07 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[Her thoughts run in the same direction. She still doesn't know if she retains her own immortality, but she suspects not. And if she doesn't, it stands to reason he likely doesn't as well.]

All right.

Don't tell anyone, though. I'm tempted to see what would happen if you were beheaded. I can't imagine how someone else might react.

[She says it flippantly, but she regrets it the moment she says it. Her stomach turns, her faint smile fading.]

In any case. How long are you going to let me stay here until you kick me out?
summertimeblues: (065)

what a good niece

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[Her professed knighthood holds some water, it looks like. She's on her feet in a flash, and when she hefts that spear and sends it sailing it flies truer than an Olympian's javelin.

The poor fuck hits the ground (he can hear him shriek in pain, but the man is on his feet and scrambling for cover quick enough), but the bird stays airborne. That squeal meant the hit was deep, but the spear only sticks from its back like a flag in claimed land. It doesn't budge as the thing rollicks and swivels midair, and the vicious bird is righting itself soon after.]


What the fuck? Does it have steel for bones? [He grabs at the younger girl's sleeve, on his own two feet now and with a pressing urge to get the hell out of the way. It's spotted them both now, head cocked and crying in fury, righting its flight to aim back their way. Richie starts into a sprint, not daring to let the girl go. It's a parody of their first meeting, except this time they're sober and there's more at stake than bruises and town pins.] Do you have anything else? A sword? A knife? Gu-AH!

[Down they gotta duck, it's nearly on them.]
fiendennor: (26)

[personal profile] fiendennor 2018-03-07 10:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh. [And for a moment, Diana looks surprised, and then mortified.

But only for a moment. She focuses on the person she's healing.]
...my apologies, I did not know she had any siblings.

[And yes, her magic is kind of similar to that, in this case.] I'd be happy to discuss it with you after these more pressing matters are taken care of.
summertimeblues: http://www.hollow-art.com/users/jessecuster (010)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
((i'm back online, if you need to move on do not be afraid to drop this!))

Little bit of both — if Mike ever wakes up you can ask him about it.

[Not his spook, not his story. Call him when you want to hear about the werewolf and the moving pictures.

Though Steve is following the lead down the alley, he's holding true to that savior complex of his. Was this something they bred in all the soldiers of old? He knew that the first World War was something of an eye popper for the people. Lots of peace-time folk rolling in starry-eyed and full of nationalist pride, and getting that shot to shit and gassed to hell wised them up for when the second round came. Maybe Steve was coming in from that hopeful place, feeling that his strengths and charms were enough to carry him through.

Problem was, this was a giant man-eating bird and Richie couldn't see if Steve was carrying a gun. He knew for a fact that he wasn't toting any secret powers, and sadly, neither was he.

Except what happened with Prior could happen again, couldn't it now?

He looks to the other man, incredulous. Something horrified, too. That Steve would even think it...that Richie could ever live with himself for taking up the offer...]


I'm not leaving you as chum, you dumb fuck! [A heady screech has him chancing a look over his shoulder. The vulture is following them from above, the dark silhouette gliding a clean line through the skinny byway between rooftops. It'll have a clearer shot once they reach the opening at the end of the next block.] Are you armed?
personalwar: visor (pic#11621339)

[personal profile] personalwar 2018-03-07 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It might have been a waste of good magic, but since there seems to be more where that comes from, 76 is pretty sure that X'rhun will forgive him. Keeping space between the angry bull-like creature and the magic-caster just seems like good strategy. Even 76, who doesn't have much experience (read: none) with magic, can wrap his head around that.

He's not actually a tank, but he's going to do a good impression of one, for better or worse.

As the turo struggles to recover, 76 squeezes off another round, shooting it in the flank to both draw its attention and slow it down. This is going to be a battle of endurance, he's pretty sure. He and X'rhun just need to hold out until the monster is too worn out and injured to keep going.

For now, though, that isn't the case. With a bellow, the turo shifts and charges toward 76 yet again. ]
summertimeblues: (047)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank god for a man willing to do it all.

[Not that Matt's an unattractive type but really, when has that ever worked? For a man...that wasn't James Bond...

When the coat gets thrust his way and Matt starts in at his sleeves, Richie starts to get a bad feeling about this. It's also the first time he notices that Matt himself ain't doing so hot. His throwback dies in his throat, and instead he's moving to still those working hands.]


Shit, what are you doing? You're bleeding hoss, get yourself cleaned up first, I can...Jesus, you can't help anyone if you're leaking like this.
summertimeblues: http://www.hollow-art.com/users/jessecuster (019)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
((i'm back online, if you need to move on do not be afraid to drop this!))

[The giggles are a good sign. She's a cute thing, whoever she is, and strangely graceful even in such strained circumstances. Richie clucks his tongue at the bad news.]


Sorry to hear it. [Goods and services, ransack and ruin. Classic signs of political dissent.] You know, it's always a thin line. Peace is a hard thing to keep as soon as you set up more than one group. It gets the best of us swept up in the madness, and sometimes you don't know what a fool you are until you've already done your bit. I'm hoping these knuckleheads figure it out before things get worse, but...

[He shakes his head. There's no point in wishing and hoping, is there?]

For now...um, shit, those fabrics of yours. Are there any left that might do as some good bandages? [His mouth twists.] This is a long shot, but you don't have any experience with medical stuff, do you? I'm fucked for it — entertainment's useless in a time of crisis.
illuminescent: (Lucy - what)

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-03-07 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Men die.

[Just in case he thinks, for some stupid reason that he's immortal now. Lucy presses her thumb against his elbow.]

Keep still.

[And she stitches.]

They are afraid.
illuminescent: (Lucy - in silence)

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-03-07 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
No. This seems so terrifying.

[She breathes, and looks him over.]

You are armed, are you not, sir?

I cannot bear the idea that you could be hurt.
bunnyhopped: (019)

[personal profile] bunnyhopped 2018-03-07 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Follow she does, indeed, and she actually chuckles when he speaks up about his new costume. Though she'd been apprehensive just now, she wasn't really going to drag him about it until later, but as long as they're on the topic now, when there's a little bit of a lull before the inevitable action... ]

It's, like, a lot, though? Compared to your old get-up - I kinda liked that one.

I guess it works for anyone who doesn't know who you are under the mask.

[ It seems that knowing that Alvin is just a cute dweeb under the get-up is a good way to not be too creeped out by Revenant. ]
summertimeblues: http://www.hollow-art.com/users/jessecuster (004)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[maybe make that your ac reward cam, become the deadpool of rp

Richie doesn't have time to ask why they're suddenly getting close, shoulder touching and tender shoving. He gets to shoot him a raised brow and a twisted lip, but then the guy stop and says what can only be a preface to something phenomenally stupid.]


Oh for—

[They blink out. Blink back in, enshrined in darkness. Richie fumbles and knocks into a wall. What sounds like cans go clattering to the ground.]

fuck's sake, not this — Christ, this teleporting bullshit! [There's more clattering as he tries to find clear footing in a floor turned slip-trap, nearly crashing down a second time for stepping on a perfectly rounded can. His elbows hit the brakes on the wall and only then is Richie able to stand upright.] Why does no one warn you before zipping you off to parts unknown? Frick!

[Okay, he's done. Richie takes a deep breath.]

But yes, thank you, this does work. Where are we?
summertimeblues: (061)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 11:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[Would you look at that. Miracles are real...

Her proposition is something equally unexpected. He regards her quizically, some of the ire in retreat even if the fire fails to quench in his nerves.]
What are you implying? Is this more...what, more of that atomic swap?

[She could appear as someone else?

Just what the hell was she? Richie has to constantly remind himself that anytime he thinks he's seen the strangest thing yet, to expect stranger. And its not as if he's unfamiliar with the notion of shape-shifting. His jaw locks.]


Something like a glamour. [Yeah, that he knows. Reflections of things wrested from your own head. He wets his lips, thinking.] Simwe's the one they're pissed at. What about a different authority? Head of the guard? Or...shit, I don't want to send you down there and get you shanked while you're playing dress up either. You sure about this?
dontgiveabuckland: (you're my favorite sound)

[personal profile] dontgiveabuckland 2018-03-07 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[What can be best described as a self-satisfied smirk curls at the edge of Cam’s lips, that quickly disappears with a look of feigned concern.]

Oh! I thought you would like it. [He points out the shiny bits, as if they needed pointed out.] Now that you’re a star, it suits you, right?

[And the spell radiates out, making all of Manley glow a little. Used properly it’s meant to make enemies easier to hit, but it works just fine for annoying Manley. With a shrug, Cam surreptitiously summons the dropped dagger back, causing it to disappear in a poof of clouds and reappears in his hand. He tucks it safely away in one of his many scabbards.] Don’t you like it?
dontgiveabuckland: (Scared to chase what I've been dreaming)

[personal profile] dontgiveabuckland 2018-03-07 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[Cam’s used to that look. For some reason, nobody expects the silly man with the green bandanna and daggers to be a man of faith and healing. But the less Clair looks like she’s going to kill him, the better, and Cam slowly lowers his hands, settling into a more comfortable sitting position. ]

I serve Avandra. I don’t think she’s a Mother [Maybe?? He’s never asked. In any case, he has no idea what The Mother is.] Why do all of these other worlds have names for their gods?

[First Faushe, now this?]
Edited 2018-03-07 23:26 (UTC)
summertimeblues: (059)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 11:29 pm (UTC)(link)
((i'm back online, if you need to move on do not be afraid to drop this!))

[She's entirely right, but dammit. He's boned for alternatives, and hasn't spent the better part of his life literally fighting the man. It's his first real war — or at least the build up to it, right square on ground zero.]


What about a distraction? Is there a place to sneak past if one of us tries sweet talking her a bit? If not... [He wipes his hair from his forehead, which is fraught with worry lines. All this crap was gonna make him go grey, put the crow's feet at his eyes which had neglected to settle in proper in spite of his age.] How good are you at improvising with the meds? I've got no experience here, but I'll help with what I can.
summertimeblues: (057)

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-03-07 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)
((i'm back online, if you need to move on do not be afraid to drop this!))

[She's quick with a retort. It sounds like it could be true. Not like anyone looting a castle is going to be aiming for the help's quarters. Richie still squints. It's not throwing off all suspicion either. He'd hate to be taken for a sucker and wind up accomplish to something shady.]


What are we looking for then?
perfectdisaster: (pic#11797424)

[personal profile] perfectdisaster 2018-03-07 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Setting the food down, he reaches out to accept the peace offering of clothing, but as soon as it's in his hands, it's set aside in favor of eating first. Getting dressed can wait until afterward. ]

Whatever they gave me that was lost can't be that important. [ And it's not like he hasn't run around in his underwear before.

Admittedly though, while he isn't the sort to go about asking favors of others, he also doesn't know much at all about the current state of affairs outside of what Duo had already said. Going out without knowing what to expect was tantamount to suicide, so he's got to suck it up and say the words if he expects any sort of briefing on things. ]


What's the situation?
verflair: (021)

[personal profile] verflair 2018-03-07 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ What we have here is a classic case of two DPS playing aggro ping-pong. Healers adjust.

The report of a gun clues X’rhun into 76’s presence before he’s even able to spot him through the clouds of dust and the general chaos. With a deft leap, he lands himself atop the boulder 76 had tossed earlier, and the better vantage point provides him a good view of the turo, squaring off and ready to charge at his friend.

X’rhun can’t get a cast off before the turo bolts, so he opts for a different solution. If this is to be a battle of strength, then there’s nothing that says he can’t tip the scales in their favor. ]


My friend, mayhap it is time you grab the bull by the horns!

[ And he does mean that literally. He raises his hand, the crystal floating there spins rapidly suddenly, orange and silvery white light spiraling with it. That same light settles over X’rhun and his ally.

For X’rhun, it seeps into him, lending power to his magic, but for 76 it is a different sort of strength. It takes what he is already possessed of and gives him more.

Time to wrestle a wild animal, buddy. ]