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.
fisherwife: (Default)

Re: QUESTIONS.

[personal profile] fisherwife 2018-02-22 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
For those characters that work at the Sanctuary, have they been given any special orders or anything in regards to this/the woman barricading entry?

Since Mipha uses her own magic to heal people without needing to use the supplies, she'd obviously be quick to volunteer running around to help during the chaos. Would she be given a hard time about this/ordered to stay in/etc. or anything?

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asmilebettersuits: (11)

Haurchefant Greystone | FFXIV | Wyver

[personal profile] asmilebettersuits 2018-02-22 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
A -- Hearty Diets

[Haurchefant came to Wyver. It was really more following those that headed that way, cutting through the swamp, and finding that city to the south. He's much too new to have any loyalty to it -- and, perhaps, Ishgard too hard to let go of.

Which leaves him feeling... a little unsure about the sights that await him here.

The knight is staring as the locals go about drinking the blood of monsters. (And, some whisper, other things.) It feels much too close to what the Warrior of Light and Estinien warned him and the rest about, after that terrible night of riots and bloodshed. He stands back, apart from a crowd partaking of the stuff.

His arms are folded over his chest. For once, there is a deeply concerned look on his face. He mislikes this.]


B -- Beastly Exhibits

[Haurchefant, of course, couldn't keep from looking at what was happening. The shamans leading people to the summit, blindfolded, seemed a bad sign. He decided to follow after them, trailing until the top. And when he saw the shamans shove someone in...

Well, it was easy. He bulled past them, running through the shamans, and into the labyrinth.

Unfortunately, a trap door gave way when he stepped on it -- and he fell into the depths, reather than climb down into them. Now, he makes his way down the hall. His eyes are narrowed; there is a little light here, made from the little magic that he commands. A weak light, barely comparable to a candle. He is no master of magic; no manipulator of aether.

He hasn't saved anyone yet. He tries to be quiet, but wearing plate and chain mail, that's not really possible.]
colorature: (Default)

A

[personal profile] colorature 2018-02-22 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
[Someone seems like a debbie downer.

While Haurchefant seems to be keeping a distance from the crowd getting their party on, Diva's made sure she's front and center of the commotion. She's certainly downed her fill, and has taken it upon herself to help hand out samples for others to try. The locals seem to have taken a liking to her, especially after being named a victor of the art competition by the King, and so they're more than happy to have her thrust blood onto others to try.

It isn't hard for Diva to take notice of him, and so after a moment she decides to take a mug filled with dragon blood and make her way over to him. She's rather small in comparison, but that doesn't seem to phase her in the slightest as she holds it out.]


You should have some!

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fiendennor: (44)

Diana Cavendish | Olympia | OTA

[personal profile] fiendennor 2018-02-22 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
[I: Chaos Erupts]

[The sounds of conflict-- of a riot-- in the distance are so subtle at first that Diana, cooped up in the library doing research, barely notices them. She has her nose in a book, after all, and it's easy to tune things out.

Then things get louder, and the commotion makes her take notice. She looks up from her book just in time to hear glass shatter right down the street.

By the time she leaves the library, broom in hand, there's already chaos.

Diana takes to the skies almost immediately, and spends much of the day trying to help, to intervene where she can. She tries to repel people from destroying shop fronts with her barriers, she tends to those who are injured. There's a lot of work to be done and no way for one girl, even a prodigy, to do it all.

She notices the odd mist, too. She's seen it before. But what could that mean?

As the sun gets lower in the sky, the city is no closer to peaceful than it had been all day, and Diana is exhausted, but keeps going. Of course, like this, few people can see just who it is flying on a broom overhead, and even fewer are inclined to trust something-- or someone-- in the air like that.

So at one point, when she's flying low to try and assess the problem, one of the rioters lobs a rock. It flies through the air, almost comically slow, before colliding directly with Diana's temple.

Anyone watching will see her sharply pull up on the broom as if reflexively before her arms go limp. The broom keeps moving forward, but completely uncontrolled, and starts to sink, with Diana barely managing to stay on. And then it crashes somewhere in the city.

That can't have been pleasant.]


[II: Critical Condition]

[Fortunately, thanks to the timely intervention of whoever helped her in Part I, Diana recovers; her healing magic works as well on herself as it does anyone else, after all. Still, she's visibly battered, with her left arm in a sling, as she shoves her way through the crowd outside the Sanctuary.

She's just not there for treatment of her own, that's all.]
What do you mean you aren't letting people through? There are-- serious injuries out here! You can't just keep people from the medicine that could cure them!

[But she gets nowhere fast. So she sighs, sharply, before pointing to you.] You there-- find those who need the most urgent care and bring them here. I'll do this myself, if need be.

[III: Palace Burns]

[It's not that Diana has any particular affection for the empress, the ruling family, or the palace. But the rioters are clearly out of control, and they're threatening innocents-- and that's not something Diana can allow.

And maybe the mist is starting to get to her, too.

So perhaps you're one of the rioters trying to bully one of the maids into showing you where the valuables are kept, or perhaps you're already intervening. Either way, there's a shout from afar:]
Murowa!

[...and then a blast of light hurtles between the maid and her would-be assailants, exploding with a burst of sound and smoke on the floor. The source is a young woman with fair hair, a wand in her non-injured hand, pointing it forward and looking very, very Done.] That was a warning. I don't have to miss next time.

Leave her be.
bornofgods: (pic#12095347)

ii. critical condition

[personal profile] bornofgods 2018-02-22 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ Just about to leave the crowd and take his attentions elsewhere, Ozymandias is halted in his tracks by Diana pointing right at his direction. The fact that she mentions that it’s within her ability to heal them bestows upon him a legitimate reason to be generous. After all, he couldn’t do this himself. ]

That… is not an unworthy idea. How many men are you capable of healing at once? [ He wants to know how many bodies he should bring back. ]

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Chaos Erupts

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ii!!!

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godslay: (171)

gamora | mcu

[personal profile] godslay 2018-02-22 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
GIVE ME THE BEAT, BOYS
[ This is getting out of hand. First the nonsense at the festival, and now this, on a grander scale. The bonfires burn too hot and too bright, and she watches with disgust as so many around her offer their blood to the flames. Her lip curls as she takes a few steps back, putting distance between herself and the offerings.

She doesn’t get far past the crowd when the sound of a— plea reaches her ears, and she turns quickly to see a young girl being dragged by her upper arms towards one of the bonfires.

”Please!” she sobs, squirming against the two men hauling her through the street. ”Please, you have it all wrong, I-I travel for— to sell my—“ A satchel hangs from her shoulder, stuffed full of herbs and flowers.

”Selling to the Olympians might as well be sidin’ with ‘em,” laughs one of the men.

A snarl under her breath, and Gamora is moving before she even thinks about it. She crosses the street, grabs one by the collar of his jacket, yanking it taut against his throat as her other hand closes around his wrist. ]


Drop. Her.

[ The onlookers surrounding her are not— pleased by the interruption.

This is going to turn into a mess very quickly. ]

YOU’RE SQUAWKING LIKE A PINK MONKEY-BIRD
[ So things haven’t gone well since Gamora stepped in to halt an overeager, violent crowd from offering a girl to the fires. She had to keep her head down after, and it quickly becomes obvious that dissenters are… disappearing.

A few days after the fact, she finds herself accosted in an alley. She beats the men unconscious, but that leaves her with questions – and some serious annoyance to deal with.

She’s not the only one, and she knows that, which is why she’s let someone else accompany her up the side of the mountain, trailing silently behind another small group of protesters being led towards the Summit.

A foot catches on a rock, sending it tumbling down the mountainside, and she immediately yanks her companion behind a large boulder with her, clamping a hand over their mouth to stifle any noise of protest or surprise.

”What was that?” a voice asks up ahead. ]

I’M BURNIN’ THROUGH THE SKY
[ Inside the Altar, she’s on the lookout for guards, for prisoners, for— anything to explain what’s going on.

Fortunately, stealth pays off, and as soon as she spots one of the shamans, she darts ahead, her arm closing around his neck from behind, snatching the knife from his other hand while she’s at it. She cuts off his air immediately, and within seconds, he goes from struggling and gasping to completely still in her arms. She eases the body to the ground, tucking the knife into her boot, and then straightens up to glance back to her companion. ]


We want to get out of this without being seen.

WILDCARD
[ ooc: hit me with anything or give me a holler @ [plurk.com profile] poprocks or disco (chromatic#3333). ]
Edited 2018-02-22 03:57 (UTC)
cassus: (Hoping my feelings would drown.)

I’M BURNIN’ THROUGH THE SKY

[personal profile] cassus 2018-02-22 08:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ Oh, now this is a familiar scene. Like a heat-seeking missile, his companion takes out their would-be attacker with the sort of precision a man like Dazai can appreciate. It's quick, brutal and finished without risking a single sound that might expose their location. It's these fact which make him want to compliment the kill, regardless of how praising a murder tends to come off as being 'in poor taste'.

Still, the gruesome scene is over and done with long before Dazai even meanders within range. Ultimately he's not lifted a finger or managed to get his hands the least bit dirty. It's an arrangement he likes, lending him to think of how he could get used to this sort of 'partnership' again. ]


How about 'heard'? Because saving our lives deserves at least one round of applause.

[ Not that he makes any effort to withdraw his hands from where they're comfortably nestled within his coat. That would take effort. And why exert himself when he has a full-fledged otherworldly Amazon playing bodyguard and attack dog? ]

Although, if you'd prefer a more lasting show of gratitude, I'd be more than happy to oblige.

[ They're under the threat of being murdered and he's blatantly propositioning her. It's either a testament to Gamora's quality of character, or Dazai's persistent streak of dumb luck, if she doesn't decide to acquaint him with the kind of up close and personal embrace her last casualty was gifted with. ]

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let's drop some beats

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colorature: (Default)

Diva | Blood+

[personal profile] colorature 2018-02-22 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
RED RUM

[Of course where there's blood one's sure to find Diva. Instead of her usual white attire she's been dressed in a beautiful, yet simple blue gown, and seems pretty excited about sampling the various types of monster blood up for offer. She's already had her share of the dragon's blood, lips and teeth stained red from downing it.

From the looks of things she seems to be in a pretty good mood, taking all the compliments she seems to be receiving from winning the King's contest to heart. Who doesn't like to be praised, after all? If she spots you hovering near by she'll approach without hesitation, fanged grin on display and a cup of blood in hand. What kind it is however is a mystery, but that doesn't seem to bother her.]


Are you here to congratulate me as well? Or are you here for a drink?

[Of blood, that is.]

ON THIS EPISODE OF HOARDERS...

[It isn't paint, but that's why Diva likes it. When she's offered the first bucket of red she immediately knows it's blood. Human blood at that, and she can't help but feel excited. One bucket turns into another, and another, until she's amassed a small collection around her as she dips her brush into it only to streak it across the nearest wall. Most of the time though she's admiring the color and quite literally licking her brush clean every other dip. She probably would stand out if those around her weren't seemingly so crazed at the moment either...but at least the other painters aren't exactly eating their 'paint'.]

NAPTIME

[And amidst all the chaos...Diva's decided there's no time like the present to take a nap. The fact that there are fires raging and people being burned alive does little to detract from some much needed shut-eye. Maybe she could've picked a better place to close her eyes - having decided the closest alleyway'd do - but she seems content enough.

Watch out though, if you trip over her and wake her up, she'll be none too pleased.]
Edited 2018-02-22 04:24 (UTC)
beatupgrass: (✘ i see...... a room.)

[personal profile] beatupgrass 2018-02-22 07:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[I am Rocket's look of utter disgust.]

I feel like you're gettin' way to into this. [There are no space vampires, so all he's seeing is this kid who is just very into drinking blood. It's weird. You're weird, Diva.

Said the three foot tall raccoon, I guess.]

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puffing: (ᴛᴇɴ﹪ғᴜʀʀʏ / ғᴀɴᴀʀᴛ ― oo7.)

[personal profile] puffing 2018-02-22 04:27 am (UTC)(link)
ONE — FOR GLORY (WYVER; POST-FIGHT)
[ Bigby doesn't know why he lets Aranea get away with dragging him into things he doesn't want to do, but it happens. a lot. participating in a bullshit tournament is one of them. he's long since been aware of the tension in the air between both cities and has been able to practically smell it for some time, so he has no doubt that this "official fight club" is to serve as some kind of stress relief to Wyver's citizens. what started out as the hope that he would be matched up against Ms. Highwind to find out just how strong the powers he gave her would be turned into him fighting a complete stranger for his first round.

a really fucking strong complete stranger, as far as appearances go. he's naturally handicapped in the fact that he didn't want to Wolf out in front of an audience of people, so even allowing his nails to sharpen would be prompting too many questions from an already paranoid group of people. with the use of nothing but his fists, feet (and sometimes his head), he had to take any blows he was given. pair that with a healing factor that doesn't quite work as well as it did back at home, and by the end of the fight — one that he won, thank you very much — he had quite a few wounds to show for it.

so he's behind the scenes of said tournament, resting up between bouts. there's a cigarette tucked above a busted bottom lip with dried blood dripping down to his chin, and a grunt from Bigby as he attempts to inflict first aid on himself by wrapping knuckles he no doubt almost broke just moments ago. maybe you know him and you're used to helping him when he's beat up, or you're a complete stranger just looking to see if he's worth betting on for the next round. either way, he looks like he can use a hand if you consider how useless his are right now. ]
TWO — HEARTY DIETS (WYVER; POST-TOURNAMENT)
[ there's a better chance that Bigby decided to outright quit the tournament as opposed to losing a fight when he realized just how bloodthirsty the audience had become. he probably did so to avoid pulling one of the Wyverns out from their seat and into the arena to beat into a pulp, which is good for all parties involved. so he has no silver nor bragging rights to show for his efforts. what does that mean?

why, he goes to a bar, of course! how surprising.

he doesn't realize just what he has walked into until he smells the unreasonably fresh scent of blood, however. most patrons are busy exchanging drinks filled with crimson as opposed to their normal beers and liquors, leaving Bigby with a heavy decision resting on his shoulders. cue him sitting at the bar on his lonesome, three glasses of blood poured to the brim right in front of him and intended for his consumption. no one will easily know this, but he has a moral dilemma presented right now. Bigby the actual Big Bad Wolf can be safely described as a recovering addict when it comes to the taste of blood, regardless of the creature it's come from. with one glass being from the famed dragon, another from a random beast in Murkwell Hallow and the supposed Olympian's, none of the options before him seem to be all too great.

his jaw is tight and he doesn't move an inch as he just stares at them, mouth no doubt watering at the prospect of tasting all three. no amount of nicotine or prior fists to the face will help him right now. you can either come over and help him make a decision or drink them before he does. ]
THREE — CHAOS ERUPTS (OLYMPIA, TWO DATES LATER)
[ for some reason, Bigby thought it would be a good idea to leave Wyver for a while. they were getting far too riled up for their own good, and as much as he prefers Wyver over Olympia in terms of location, he has no allegiance to either side. remaining there to find out people are being abducted for crazy science experiments or thrown into fire is going to cause him to make mistakes, and he didn't want to do that.

coming to Olympia in hopes of letting things die down doesn't help, because everything in Olympia is literally on fire. perhaps he should have been deterred by the smell of smoke he picked up on miles and miles away, but nope. for some reason, he's made it all the way to the front gates and takes a few dozen steps in before taking a look around just as a tiny dragon runs out of a building and the sight of the palace in the distance being set flame becomes clear. ]


Okay. No. Fuck this.

[ a 180° is performed and he is prepared to turn into a wolf with how quick he wants to get out of the frying pan and back into the freezer. so prepared that he doesn't realize someone had been behind him, who he just so happens to run into. hard. hope you weren't in the middle of stealing from one of the nearby stores or something. ]
FOUR — WILDCARD
( Bigby's going to be between cities for several days during the event, trying to keep out of the drama but no doubt susceptible to it like everyone else! plot w/ me at [plurk.com profile] sustain or pm if you'd like to do something different or just drop a prompt at your whimsy. )
Edited 2018-02-22 04:30 (UTC)
kissintime: (dreaming)

3 with a bit of wildcard

[personal profile] kissintime 2018-02-22 03:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ everyone knows that when chaos erupts, shit goes on fire, and authority is disbanded, there is only one sensible option for the every day man and woman. that sensible option is looting. and while there aren't any electronic stores to steal the newest tvs from, the palace and all the expensive stuff in it is a perfect target.

it just so happens that as bigby plans to get out of olympia, ermes is staggering on by with a bag slung over her shoulder, the sound of metal clanging together coming from inside. and while looking around frantic and totally normal, she catches sight of bigby and stares at him like a deer in the headlights.
]

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wallofbriggs: (053)

Olivier Armstrong | Olympia | ota

[personal profile] wallofbriggs 2018-02-22 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
❚❚❚ I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
[The Theater District is Olivier's normal patrol and she's seen more than enough of her fair share of terrible acting of late. The escalation of violence in general is troubling, that it's spilled over into what is supposed to entertainment… Entertainment for the most depraved maybe.

The crowd seems to have no problem pulling a member of the guard up on the stage to take part forcing her front and center to face down some poor fool they've decided either belongs to Wyver, or at the very least doesn't belong in Olympia.

A wooden sword is shoved into her opponent's hand. Someone else tries to give her a sword that looks far more dangerous than anyone should handle. She just shakes her head and pulls out her sword instead.
]

I'll use my own.

[She knows just how to use it to cause the most, or least, amount of damage.]


❚❚❚ Feel my heat takin' you higher, burn with me
[In an emergency it's all hands in. Olivier has no problem working herself, or with putting others to task. No matter who she runs into throughout the palace, those working there, those there to add to the fire, or those just looking to get out with what they can grab, she's going to put them to work one way or another.]

You! Get over here and help, now.


❚❚❚ Wild Card
((OOC: generic offer of make your own prompt if these don't work or feel free to PM me or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] purkle
cassus: (And my heart is a hollow plain)

Feel my heat takin' you higher, burn with me

[personal profile] cassus 2018-02-22 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ Dazai isn't here with the implicit desire for recruitment. But it seems like any personal preferences he might have about being ordered around are not up for debate. Besides, if he would have wanted to risk voicing an objection, that urge is laid to rest with the notice of Oliver's scabbard, and the expectation of the obligatory sword which must lie sheathed inside.

Well, there's that and her very demure bellow of a request. ]


Oh! Are you speaking to me?

[ There's no one else in sight. Not unless you count his fellow looters and rioters, moving past at breakneck speed, while he stands around like he's there to merely observe. But Dazai still takes the time to point at himself and look around cartoonishly for another draftee. ]

Why, it'd be my pleasure to help a lady in need!

[ There's no sarcasm in his tone, whatsoever. Still, the way he makes his way over to her, hands in both pockets like he's on a Sunday afternoon stroll, suggests he's slightly reluctant to be dragged into her playing errand boy. ]

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Laugh with sinners

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III!

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Feeling the Heat

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bornofgods: (pic#11994416)

ozymandias | fate/ | olympia

[personal profile] bornofgods 2018-02-22 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
I. CHAOS ERUPTS
[ Everywhere Ozymandias deigns to turn his head, mayhem and madness has seized this city. Olympians drown in their leader’s own inability to protect their people. Able to easily avoid the majority of the fighting on the onset, he figures that he should maintain a neutral outlook. He watches from afar, ever the apathetic god.

Magic snarls around him, eventually trespassing his many layers of resistance, a change that he doesn’t recognize until it’s too late. It doesn’t take long for him to collide with the many common themes of struggle. Two men beat an Olympian woman into the cobblestones below, unrelenting in their pursuit of savage violence. Ozymandias slows his pace and watches from afar.

Perhaps, the moment that you meet Ozymandias is in this very role: just standing there and watching the violence unfold, background noise to whatever thoughts swirl in his head.

Left to his own devices, he will eventually tire of the scene. Beginning to walk past the trio, lost in their truly one-sided tussle, a direct punch to the woman’s jaw sends blood spraying onto his new, Olympian-styled white and gold robes. Reaching up to wipe some blood from his face, Ozymandias is riled— more so than his norm, which would be bad enough, but this is even worse. ]


You infernal beasts would dare mar my visage? Does playing with your food so not sufficiently satiate your hunger? Perhaps… you desire a far more challenging opponent.

[ The rumbling of laughter starts in his throat. ] So be it. I accept!

[ What is going to happen next isn’t hard to discern, his murderous intent is very clear from his increasingly sun-like irises. ]

II. PALACE BURNS
[ Overlooking such an opportune moment for a free sight-seeing session around the palace is not Ozymandias’ style. Refraining from looting himself, he is simply interested in the contents of the palace. One day, it may have been impressive, but this hardly seems worthy of his recognition considering its state.

The loud requests of the group instantly catches his attention, if only for mainly one singular reason. ]


If you seek a king, look no further. You will find no candidate more fitting than I. [ By the looks on their faces, that was a response they hadn't entirely expected. Ozymandias continues on, brazenness as natural as breathing. ] Rest assured, I shall procure the heart of Yservai.

[ Whether he plans to actually give it to them…. that’s another story altogether, and one conclusion that will not be reached, for now. With that equally boisterous proclamation, Ozymandias approaches the treasure door with his very Egyptian staff in hand, about to attack it with a minuscule amount of his might. ]

III. WILDCARD
[ Feel free to contact me at [plurk.com profile] wadjet if you want an alternative! ]
bornofgods: (pic#12065739)

closed to nami.

[personal profile] bornofgods 2018-02-23 02:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ Volunteering for Wyver’s tournament had been a last minute decision spurned entirely by whim, justified only by the opportunity to spread his own name and prove his glory through deed. He had put a great deal more thought into going from Olympia to Wyver. The level of civil unrest sealed the deal as far as learning more about this world, and attempting to find his place within it.

Ozymandias realizes, once more, the bizarre turn his life took as he stands in the preparation room, below a crowd of enthused onlookers, in anticipation for the next round of fighting. He holds a short sword in his hand — this had been his weapon of choice, at least for now. Using his magic would mean his opponents would be less ‘incapacitated’ and more burnt to a crisp. He may be no warrior, but he grasps the basics, skirting around his own inexperience by his mere nature as a Servant.

The gates towards the fighting area are closed, only opened when the blowhorn sounds and he walks through a short corridor, emerging from the exit to be greeted with the sight of the tournament arena. Their names are shouted, a rambunctious “NAMI VS OZYMANDIAS.” Suspicious at first, he doesn’t arrive to any conclusions until his gaze lands upon the woman. His eyes widen, surprised by her presence. ]


We meet again. [ He observes lightly, walking up to her. ] I must admit that I thought you disliked battle.

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selfservice: (ha ha)

manley | i'm sorry olympia

[personal profile] selfservice 2018-02-22 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
the school play gets even worse
[The last time Manley was dragged up on stage, they told him to be a piece of the set and called security when he objected to it. It was all very offensive, and so he makes a few hurried and mostly even faux-polite objections ("No, no, not for me, thanks, I've already had my turn! It was very, very enlightening!!") when strangers' hands start pushing and pulling at him to get back up there.

A few of them even remember him; there are some clamoring, mist-given fury burning in their eyes, for Manley to be... whatever you would do to hurt a tree? Break him into pieces? It's a concern.

But then someone else is pushed onto the stage who looks more Wyver, who already has a black eye and a fat lip from fighting, and who is, notably, screaming at the top of their lungs that Olympia can go ahead and burn to the ground for all they care.

Last time, someone handed Manley a script. This time, they hand him a metal poker and gesture for him to get to work. He looks down at it, then critically at the Olympians, who clearly took this thing from one of their fireplaces at home—but then the alleged "Wyvern," still shouting about burning things to the ground, lunges. Manley stumbles, gets pushed back up by the Olympians, and swings the poker like a club directly into the man's face with a CRACK! somehow louder than the shouting of the crowd.

It's already bloody as hell. They are loving this. And you know what, so is Manley, who sure will do absolutely anything for his adoring fans. Including raising the poker again—

So that's how this is going now.]
only loot crate microtransactions matter
[Another fun thing: the goddamn palace burning? Open to the public?

Manley isn't a fan of rioting, so to speak, and might even make his way to the palace just to avoid being harassed by the crowd—go with the flow, that's safe right??—buuut okay.

Okay.

He's definitely going to line his pockets with cool palace stuff, so uh, that's fun. He's keeping to himself about it, actually, avoiding the rioting and burning and harassment and just browsing in the background, picking up decorative items and observing them before tucking them inside his coat. At one point he'll hold up two goblets, one gold and one silver, both sporting dazzling jewels, and consult whoever's just stumbled into this room:]


What do you think? Lovely, aren't they, but which one suits me more?

[He's more or less shouting over the rest of the, uh, shouting, but he's still doing this like it's an ordinary thing to do.]
wildcard
[sighs at my own toplevel............. hmu @ [plurk.com profile] jojoveller to plan anything else]
frombetrayal: (021)

school play... rest in pieces

[personal profile] frombetrayal 2018-02-25 09:57 am (UTC)(link)
[Honestly, Haru isn't sure how she wound up here.

She's a Royal Guard - about as Olympian as it's really possible for a refugee to be, frankly - but she's... well. Technically, she's off-duty, because they're required to take the occasional break even in a situation such as this (especially in a situation such as this, so that they can be energized enough to handle it if something does break out on their watch), and she's just passing through on her way home.

Out of her uniform, she doesn't look quite so Olympian, perhaps. And the concern on her face is read by the crowd as disapproval when Manley beats his (admittedly inflammatory) costar into submission. He's losing rather a lot of blood...

She blinks, and the next thing she knows, the crowd is pushing her onto the stage, and she barely has enough time to raise her arms to shield her face.]


Ah—?!

[Oh, dear. This is going to hurt.]

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lifespanned: (pic#11700868)

misa amane | death note | wyver

[personal profile] lifespanned 2018-02-22 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
1. s1e1 of hoarders
[ Whether she had been forced to drink it, or gave into peer pressure, the fact of the matter is that she has tasted the forbidden fruit (drink). And it's effects are taking it's toll. Her already admittedly confident behavior is only amplified, but now with the added pleasure of feeling like she wants to steal something shiny off everyone in the room. Are you:
a. looking away from your goblet for a moment? When you turn back, it'll become quickly obvious that she's just dumped its contents onto your shoes so she can take the goblet for herself.
b. wearing some jewelry? You can expect her to slide in next to you with a pleasant and chatty attitude, likely complimenting something about your appearance in order to get close to you. You know, so she can snatch that accessory off your body.
2. let out the beast.mp3
[ Misa is among those forcibly taken up to the summit, unwittingly pushed into the labyrinth with you, whether you came of your own accord or whether you too were dragged into this. First things first, she tears the blindfold off - there's something about having super sight that makes not being able to see ten times scarier. So, of course, seeing that it's pitch black in the labyrinth does nothing for her mood. ]

Oh my god...they can't just leave us in here.

[ Is that distant screaming in the background? She'd reach out for the unlucky partner that she's been forced to pair up with, if only she was sure they weren't an enemy too. Either way, she doesn't get the memo that talking loudly might attract whatever is causing that person far away to scream: ]

Don't you have anything to make some light? I can't see a thing!!
3.wildcard!
( i'm okay with any of the prompts in either wyver or olympia! additionally you can find me at [plurk.com profile] ishimarus if you want to plot anything specific :> )
lifespanned: (pic#11743275)

closed to jj

[personal profile] lifespanned 2018-02-22 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sure, tension between Wyver and Olympia is pretty bad right now, but she's always been the type to go wherever and do whatever she wanted regardless of the danger. Thinking ahead has always been her achilles heel, and besides, with the way things are, who knows how many more times she'll be able to get into Olympia unscathed with her silly stunts.

A while back, JJ had mentioned something about his rink getting destroyed, and with the current trend of people's stuff getting destroyed, she's forcing herself over because she's a good friend who's concerned. That, and it's in her job's best interest if she tries to scope out how things are here in Olympia in the flesh, too. ]


You don't seriously think it'll all get destroyed, right?

[ They are enroute to his precious place of employment, Misa being the typically clingy person she is and staying close because the Olympians do seem quite rowdy. Not to mention she's getting a bad look or two...or three...or four, due to her dark outfit. Not that she's paying them any mind, obviously not considering the possibility that someone would go that far out of their way over something so trivial, nor the possibility that anyone would recognize her as a frequent traveller from Wyver. ]

I mean... isn't this the kind of behavior they're always complaining Wyverns do? It's the same thing!

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stages a hoarding intervention

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thanks she needs it

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ofseraphim: (determined)

Sorey | Olympia | OTA

[personal profile] ofseraphim 2018-02-22 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
the end begins (Olympia at-large)

[ While Sorey only briefly enjoyed the comforts and hospitality of Wyver, his life here began in Olympia, and to Olympia he has remained faithful. There’s no offense meant by his decision, and never disparaging or inflammatory remarks made for Wyver on his part; rather, he supports the frail truce the two factions have--

...or, should he say had.

While Olympia hasn’t been peaceful by any means since his return to it, today seems especially tumultuous. To be more accurate, it’s absolute bedlam. How had things come to this? Where did it all start? He needs answers, and heads into the fray to get them. If no one will answer his attempts to address them, he’ll step into someone’s path to get their attention. ]


Hey! [ Does he need to grab someone by the arm, or put his own arm out? Seriously! ] Just tell me what’s going on! Who started all this?!

chaos erupts (aka the fighty option)

[ Or maybe your character is in here looting, pillaging, otherwise generally destroying the city and/or its people. In that case, be prepared to see a very different side of this sweet sunshine child:

Once and former Shepherd of his world who purified the kind of malevolence he’s seeing here right now, he’s not prone to shouting, let alone throwing fists without more than due cause. But, piece up on him now and he might be sincerely tempted to draw his sword to prove a point, if need be.

He’s not playing around. Olympia is his home in this world, and -- especially under the influence of this strange mist -- he will defend it. With force. ]


saints and sinners

[ It’s good to see that these places, at least, are still intact. Of course, on a brief passthrough, he’s unaware of the rather cruel and macabre nature of the “play” that’s about to begin -- just in time for him to be the unwitting star of the show. Well then.

Even so, this is all fun and games to him, and he’s a good sport! ...Until he discerns that those weapons are very much live, and he’s absolutely expected to wield one against a captured, cruelly bound-up Wyver native.

Long story short, there’s no way he’s going through with that. So help him play along with a farce to get the show off the road; or, better yet, throw caution to the wind and prepare to make a daring escape! He promises to help. ]


paris is burning

[ After raging for the better part of a week, the fire finally reaches the palace.

Now, Sorey’s loyalty isn’t to Simwe, specifically; in fact, should he ever meet her, he has more than a few questions for her. But he can’t sit idly by and simply let people loot and pillage a place that’s meant to be sacred, and has so many important artifacts inside, like books.

Books are important! Books must be saved before the fire reaches them, if nothing else.

So he may or may not be caught hiding in plain sight among people who would rather see the whole place burn, loading his arms with tome after tome after tome. All around him, paintings are smouldering, jewelry and coins are being stolen -- but all he’s here for are the books. He’ll return them, too, if given half a chance, (after he’s read them all thoroughly, of course).

...And, pending he makes it out with them. Whoops.

He knows what this looks like, but--! ]


wildcard

[ hit me with whatever! o/ i’m at [plurk.com profile] tangential if you wanna plot! ]
gekkajuu: (pic#11553784)

burn motherreader, burn

[personal profile] gekkajuu 2018-02-22 11:47 am (UTC)(link)
[Atsushi came to the palace mostly to help put out the fires and make sure everything is okay - but it's not okay, is it? None of it is. People are looting left and right, and Atsushi walks around Half Tiger, trying to stop as many looters as he can. Eventually, he'll end up at the treasury, and stay there to protect it; for now, he's still looking around if there are any palace staff or other people in trouble, taking care of whatever looters he runs into.

He's not expecting to see anyone run off with books, even if they are expensive; he's definitely not expecting to look behind the stacked-up tomes and see a familiar face.]


Sorey!?

[Well, that's one "looter" he's not knocking out on sight. Had Sorey been running off with gold, it might have been different; as it is, the combination of familiar face and unlikely loot makes Atsushi more confused than morally indignant.]

we don't need no water!!

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the end begins

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terrantrash: (14)

Slaine Troyard | Aldnoah.Zero

[personal profile] terrantrash 2018-02-22 05:16 am (UTC)(link)
PEER PRESSURE

[Slaine doesn't want to be here.

It's not like he has to be here, in Wyver, but Yona is here and he'd insisted he follow. There was no way he was going to let her stray too far after the commotion that had been happening in Olympia, and so here he was, stressed out and holding what seemed to be a cup of blood in his hands.

He's supposed to drink it, but it looks absolutely vile. The longer he hesitates the more critical his company becomes of him. He needs to get out of here - either down the drink or pass it off to someone else.]


You wouldn't happen to want some, would you?

[Please say yes so he can gtfo thanks.]

FIRE AND FURY

[This is not how he thought he was going to die, being dragged kicking and screaming toward a lit pyre. Sure, he thought fire might be involved in his death some day, but that was in conjunction with being shot down while piloting not being sacrificed.

No matter how hard he struggles the grip of his captors doesn't seem to let up as he's forced closer and closer to the flames. His voice is shrill as he shrieks, digging his heels into the ground to no avail.]


STOP IT! LET ME GO!

[He can't die. Not yet.]

IT STARTS WITH A BANG

[The more violent things become the more on edge and paranoid Slaine feels. There's no means to escape back to the station, nor would returning to Olympia provide any real reprieve from the chaos. Both nations seem swept up in it and while blood and flames seem to grip both, as far as Slaine can tell there seems no immediate, near end in sight.

That doesn't mean he's not trying to find a quiet, safe spot to escape to. Pistol out and loaded, trigger finger shaky, if you're unfortunate enough to run into him he'll waste no time pointing his gun at you. If you turn out to be a familiar face, he might lower it, but if not he'll keep it aimed straight ahead.]


What do you want?

WILDCARD

[For anything else or Olympia things...hit me up.]
Edited 2018-02-22 05:56 (UTC)
sparsity: (236.)

goblet of fiyah

[personal profile] sparsity 2018-02-22 06:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ Once he's realized what's really going on around the pyres, it's hard to just sit around. Mikazuki has made Wyver into — not a home, but a place that was as good as any he's ever had. The chaos that erupts is just a little too much like the war he accepted back home without ever really wanting, reminding him of his place in all this.

Not that he's doing a great job of remembering it when all the shrieking rises up over the sounds of flames and zealots. Talking it out with the people of Wyver is never really an option, which is just as well, because Mikazuki will always choose the simpler option that he doesn't hate.

It comes in the form of an aggressive bolt up to the nearest man that has Slaine by the arm. Mikazuki ducks, throwing his elbow into his gut, then uses the momentum of him doubling over to drive his palm up into his chin. There's a harsh grating sound, a crack, and then he topples down to hit pavement. Reaching out, he secures the other boy in his grip instead, tugging him loose of the remaining people. Beneath his breath, his tongue clicks against his teeth. An actual tsk.
]

Noisy...

[ As usual. ]

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fire & fury

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Bang Bang

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assholic: (Over Shoulder - Not good 1)

Jessica Jones | Wyver

[personal profile] assholic 2018-02-22 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
i: For Glory
[Since arriving and finding out about the arenas in Wyver, Jessica Jones had become a somewhat familiar face there. She didn't come to watch others fight and she didn't cheer anyone on, but she would step in the ring against whoever she'd been carded against and did her best -- within reason, to win. Not out of bloodlust or arrogance, but because it was an effective way to earn money for herself and her small household, and to keep herself in a steady supply of mind-numbing alcohol.

She didn't win every fight; sometimes because she was outmatched and sometimes because she just didn't want to take it as far as she'd need to to do so, but she won enough that she wasn't worried about having to get by on the planet. For this moment, she thought it was better than some of the alternatives she'd seen floating around. So it seemed like the natural course of events for her to try to fit in a little more by signing herself up and agreeing to fight against whoever they threw her in with. If she made it as far as being teamed up, she was going to be a little salty over having to fight with someone else -- unless that someone else was someone she knew well enough.]



ii: Fanning Flames - Vultures
[For the most part, she'd avoided having to shed any of her own blood or the blood of anyone else for those stupid goddamn fires. But when the large birds came down and started to attack people, she found herself heading out to try to keep the injured from getting pecked to death. The dead she didn't really care about. They were dead. There wasn't much she could do there, but she could attempt to keep the ones she found from winding up as bird food.]

Hey! Flappy. Come pick on someone your own size.

[She waved at a bird heading for someone on the ground, gesturing for the injured party to head for cover if they could and setting her feet to take what might be an incoming blow.]


iii: Wildcard
[Jessica will be found in and around Wyver, trying to keep herself out of most trouble and checking in with the few people she gave a shit about. Familiar CR is welcome to tag her in person or over the network (especially for those still in Olympia), and I'm open to ideas for something specific. PM or PP me a @junglewere on Plurk.]
ghettobatman: (☠ smokes fifty packs a day)

wildcard!! i can change if it it doesn't work

[personal profile] ghettobatman 2018-02-24 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
[Matt's been busy as she might expect --- there's a lot for him to do, in between breaking up fights, beating off giant vultures, and the people that have gone missing. He's got his super senses, but they can only help so much. He needs an expert]

--- Jessica.

[He swings in, dressed up in devil of hell's kitchen wear --- black mask, black clothing, punching an attacker to the ground and stepping over the prone body. By way of greeting]

I need your help.

[He could have called, but no]

Works just fine for me =)

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sparsity: (039.)

mikazuki augus | wyver

[personal profile] sparsity 2018-02-22 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
I. FOR GLORY
[ It took a little goading, but maybe less than most might need. Mikazuki has seen more celebrations here than he had in his entire lifetime before this planet and its people, and each time he thinks he understands it a little more. In Wyver, it starts to take on a mantle that he's familiar with — blood and grit, a violence that's both worn well and beloved. So, sure. He'll pen his name on the dotted line. It gets him in a few places: ]

[ (I-A MATCH-UP): Like standing across from another competitor, looking pretty spry. (Also ripped for being super short, because he's weighing a sizable mace like it's nothing.) It's the first round after all, and all the smoke and iron in the air has his heart going loud enough for him to hear it thick in his ears. It helps over the growing noise of the audience, though he's sort of tuned that buzz out. Instead his brilliant gaze is straight ahead, steady as the smile flicked on the corners of his mouth.

He has all the energy in the world. And he's going to kick it off by making the first move, darting forward, mace held behind him.

Literally fight him, it'll be fun.
]

[ (I-B FINALISTS): Somehow, he's made it this far. A little banged up, weapon and knuckles sporting their fair share of broken bits, but not too bad, all things considered. Instead of being placed in another tournament across from someone else, it's now side by side. With a twitch of his fast-bruising nose, he reaches up to pinch the bridge of it and blow out a decent chunk of blood and snot. Festive!

That out of the way, he sniffs a little, mace scraping the ground casually. He considers the barred gate up ahead, what beast might be behind it.
]

That's the fight this time, huh?

[ (I-C AFTERMATH): Though fighting for fame or prizes is a little weirder than fighting for straight money or survival, Mikazuki didn't dislike it. It felt good to go all out again, even if it was hand-to-hand rather than through the layers of steel and propulsion that piloting accustomed him to. Granted, he's sitting behind the scenes among the growing agitation of the crowd looking beat to hell for lack of a better term.

If not completely calm about it. He has one wide palm placed against his bare stomach muscles, giving off the impression that he was maybe injured there —
]

I'm starving.

[ ...or that. ]

II. BEASTLY EXHIBITS
[ No good deed goes unpunished. It's remarkably apt for his life in most cases, but it's especially so today. Despite participating in the tournament, Wyver has incredibly sharp eyes and ears, and a sense of intolerance to match. Yanking familiar (and naive) faces from the jaws of fires landed him here: blindfolded and thrown into the jaws of the Altar instead, trading one beast of a tradition for another. An irritated sigh wells in his throat as he stands still there for a moment, trying to get his wits about him.

It's fortunate that he wandered these halls with Diana once, though he doesn't really think in sums like that. Instead, his senses make a certain calm roar over him, making his body sharpen and pivot when he hears noise. There's something in here — actually, a lot of somethings.
]

Who's there?

[ Unwitting friend or unlucky foe, it's not gonna take him long to go on the offensive. ]

III. WILDCARD
[ anything in wyver goes! if you wanna do something i can write a starter also 👍 grab me at [plurk.com profile] rivalry or pm!! ]
sparsity: (036.)

fanning the flames — yona

[personal profile] sparsity 2018-02-22 06:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ At first, the trials didn't seem to be anything much out of the ordinary for Wyver. Spirit and strength were always on display here, though the conclusion of the tournament sees things rising to a fever pitch. Part of him identified with what he's seen and heard of the dragon people, influencing him to stay, but no part of him really wants to help with the blood-letting in the streets. There are vast and sourceless (to his eye) amounts of red everywhere — up the walls, on hands, in cups, being thrown into flame.

Not the only thing being thrown into flame, apparently. Mikazuki walks the streets innocuously enough, having seen and spilled enough blood in his lifetime to not be phased. It's the sound of a struggle taking place next to the bonfires that draws his attention side to a cloak being torn away from another familiar shade of red.

Familiar enough to not mind his own business. Mikazuki's pace remains even, though when he comes up on the group, his expression furrows.
]

What's this?

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revlon: (265)

peggy carter | mcu

[personal profile] revlon 2018-02-22 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
i. gas! gas! quick, boys! — an ecstasy of fumbling
[ It's like when the bomb went off in the marketplace. Peggy Carter's patrol route takes her to the outskirts of Olympia, an assignment which has become more pressing and urgent as the mood has soured towards all outsiders. So by the time word reaches her about the attacks on the shops, the outright riots that are breaking out in the streets, the fact that members of the Guard are doing little to stop it — are in fact joining in — she's knows she'll be rushing back into a city with chaos in full swing. But that doesn't stop her from jumping into the thick of it; she may not hold any true love or loyalty for this place, but she does for her friends who live here with her. And this mess must be contained to keep them safe.

The good intent, however, is short-lived. Because Peggy doesn't notice the strange mist in the air until it's too late, until she's been working through it, breathing it in — until she breaks up a fight by throwing a punch first, instead of by more peaceful measures. She compartmentalises very well, she knows how to look at a situation and diffuse it by the best means, she never lets her emotions get the better of her in the field. But she finds she's furious at the sheer injustice of what's happening in the streets, the brutality, and reason doesn't win here (or so she feels).

She's still helping people get out of fights, get to safety. But for a woman who has been so intent on keeping a low profile in Olympia, specifically with regards to her fighting ability — her tactics have changed. She fights openly now and like a brawler, her style inelegant but brutally effective: all elbows and knees, a mean right hook, using her opponent's size against them, slamming aggressors into walls. She doesn't fight to kill, she never does, but she's bloody good at making sure they won't get back up again any time soon.

And, well. She may have some supersoldier strength behind those hits, thanks to the Volkrran Pact between her and Steve Rogers. So if you're a friend, good luck in getting her to pull her punches. And if you're foe — just good luck. ]


ii. but someone still was yelling out and stumbling
[ The fighting is spreading, but the worst of it is in the more populated areas. Peggy, despite being a little overeager to haul people out of the mess by any means necessary, is still working to get people to safety and medical attention. That fighting itch dulls the more time she spends away from the city centres but she pays no mind to it as she checks on those who are fleeing or who need help to do so.

She's half-supporting, half-carrying a young woman who was caught in the crossfire to the Sanctuary when she finds it locked. And she's about to wrestle her device out of her pocket and call for help when a cry rents the air — later, she won't be able to say if it was human or animal, because a vicious-looking winged beast comes diving towards the ground, towards the crowd. ]


Get down! Get

[ The thing snatches someone from the crowd in its talons and her stomach goes cold, horrified for a split second before she forces herself to tamp down on that. Christ. People are screaming, running, and if they aren't careful, they'll be caught in a stampede. Peggy slings an arm around the girl she's helping and looks for shelter; a dark shadow falls over them and she knows the vulture's back for more blood. Get of range, she thinks (and suddenly it's mortars not monsters, and she has to pull herself back from the memory of one front and into another).

She raises her voice over the din, sharp as steel: ]
Find some cover!


iii. as under a green sea, I saw him drowning
[ It's been a long bloody few days. (A long, bloody few days.) She's exhausted and she's battered, bleeding, and bruised; after the initial wave of mayhem, she's elected to shed her Guard blacks for civilian clothes — 20th century trousers and Olympian tunics and boots. The fighting hasn't abated, it feels like half the city is on fire, the Palace is practically under siege, and she's worried sick for her friends.

But somehow, somewhere, Peggy finds a quiet corner to catch her breath. (It isn't on Thesa; she tried getting up there for supplies and found the transport system still broken. Fantastic.) Maybe it's at the apartment she shares with Steve, blessedly untouched by the chaos in the streets. Maybe it's just a narrow, overlooked alleyway, her back to a wall and her hand on her holster. Maybe she's alone, maybe she isn't, huddled with others who are trying to hide and keep safe, and keeping them safe by being with them, too.

God, she needs a drink. And maybe some ice (for herself, not the drink). Bloody hell. ]


iv. wildcard!
[ Feel free to toss a starter my way! If you wanna hash something out, PM me or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] dossier. ]
Edited 2018-02-22 06:19 (UTC)
nineteenfortyfive: (PARENTAGE)

iii

[personal profile] nineteenfortyfive 2018-02-22 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
[Peggy's peace and quiet is shattered by some loud banging at the door. It's not frantic, but it's forceful, and it's Claire's voice that comes through.]

Hello? One of you in there?

[She glances aside to see the old apartment she used to share with Jamie has been ransacked. The door has been kicked in and hangs dangerously off the hinges. Claire takes a few steps back so that she can peer inside. Windows are shattered, furniture upturned. She wonders what happened to the people that lived there after her.

At least she hasn't seen any corpses in the street. Yet.]

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fisherwife: (i dont believe you. i want proof.)

Mipha | Legend of Zelda | olympia

[personal profile] fisherwife 2018-02-22 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
[Sanctuary -- Inside]

[Anyone who does manage to sneak or break into the Sanctuary, might be greeted by a certain fish princess. She knows they're not supposed to be in here, but despite the trident at her side, she doesn't appear to want to use it.

She just looks bewildered
] How did you manage to get in here? Is everything alright? I wasn't aware they'd taken the barricade down yet.

[Sanctuary -- Barricade]

[Tired and anxious of sitting around, especially as she hears that the destruction is getting worse, Mipha's gone to leave, though the woman has warned her that she won't let Mipha back in should she return]

This is ridiculous. Our duty is to help people and save them! Turning people away who need our help is the exact opposite and goes against everything we stand for! How could you think to do this?!

[Is... Is that the fish princess yelling? Her hand is clenched tightly around the shaft of her trident, looking very much like she'd like to whack the woman with it and get this over with. She realizes, logically, that this isn't like her at all. It seems that fog is getting to even someone as normally mild-mannered as she.]

The people who die because of this-- Their blood will be on your hands! [Ugh no she didn't really want to say that, but as much as she understands the decision and even sort of agrees, it's still... It's difficult. She turns away with a deep breath and rather determinedly walks away from the barrier, head held high to address anyone gathered in as calm a voice as she can manage.]

If there's anyone who needs healing, I'll see to them here.

[The Streets]

[There's someone lying on the street, bleeding and beaten. Mipha doesn't know if they were a sympathizer of Wyver or not, and frankly she doesn't care. She's kneeling down by the man's side, her hands glowing brightly as she heals them and...someone's certainly trying to harass her out of it.

For the most part, Mipha is completely ignoring the man, who appears to be a little drunk anyhow, though there's a tightness to her jaw the belies her irritation. This fog is certainly doing a number on her and it's exhausting.
]

Please stand down leave me to my work. A healer's job is to heal, 'taking a side' isn't an option here. [Her voice is regal and hard and doesn't leave much room for arguing but boy is thisg uy still trying. It's fine, up until he grabs Mipha's arm to physically stop her.

Her hand goes for her trident and-- crack! right across the man's skull. He crumples instantly and Mipha stares down at him coldly. He's not dead, just unconscious, thankfully.
]

I said: Stand down. I'll heal you when I'm done with this one. [She sets the trident back down and turns back to the first man, observing her work and deeming it successful anyhow despite the interruption, and she looks up to find someone who looks like they're strong enough.

Mipha's voice is back to being more gentle now, if very tired.
] Excuse me? Would you help me move him somewhere safer?

[The Palace]

[Of course Mipha's one of the ones helping to put out the fires, what else would she be doing? She's not at all interested in looting, though she'll certainly be quick to get annoyed with anyone who either is slacking or looting themselves]

What are you doing? There's no time for that! Please, help put some of this out! [And she's trying to shove a bucket of water into your hands. Help, you fool!!]
meinwaifu: (And don't call me Shirley ♪)

Mipha kills a man: The Prompt

[personal profile] meinwaifu 2018-02-22 06:42 am (UTC)(link)
[Never before has Mephisto been more charmed by Mipha than he is in watching her swing that trident into the drunken man's head.]

[Has Mephisto just been watching this whole time? ...maybe. He's certainly been watching her for a little while from a higher vantage point, not wanting to step on her toes when she seems to be taking care of things on her own. And by now, he's certainly aware of just how much this strange atmosphere is affecting him as well, though while calm, it won't be as obvious.]


My, it seems I didn't need to step in after all!

[She'll hear his voice before she sees him -- she'll have to look up for that, where he's sitting casually perched on the railing of a second-floor balcony, looking more like he's floating in place than actually balancing up there.]

Ah, but that's for the best I'm sure. [Since healing a mild concussion is probably easier than healing a severed arm, right? That guy's lucky Mipha hit him first.] Do you need a hand?

hey hey no one's dead.... yet

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The Streets

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Sanctuary - Inside

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what a rebel

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the streets

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sanctuary - barricade;

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sanctuary inside

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vladpire: (Up - 1)

Vlad Tepes III | Olympia

[personal profile] vladpire 2018-02-22 06:17 am (UTC)(link)
i: Chaos Erupts - Dragon hunting
[Newly come to the city, and the world itself, Vlad finds himself arriving at an inopportune time, it seems. Chaos is reigning, and he sees evidence of looting and mindless vandalism. Anger is at the root of it all, and inhuman though he may be, he finds his own control tested at odd moments that surprise him. And, if he's being honest with himself, terrify him just a little. Whatever madness seems to have infected the city, it's affecting him as well, and he seems to be the only one aware enough of what he's capable of to find that worrisome.

Still, he tries to help sort things when he comes across the aftermath of such violence; avoiding the scent of blood if he can manage it. With his control coming and going as it is, he's trying so very hard to avoid temptation of any sort. But the mention of dragons, especially young ones, draws his attention. He thinks of the silver-haired lady he's met, the one who he shares a strange kinship with over these not so mythical creatures, and he decides to make an effort to attempt to find the young lizards. What he'll do with them when he finds them is still a mystery, as handing them back to the establishment seems likely to only cause it to be attacked again, but that's something to concern himself with after he finds the beasts.]


It seems a shame to put the blame on such wonderful creatures when the ire is directed at a peoples and not the beasts themselves.


ii: Chaos Erupts - Assisting the Guard
[In an attempt to regain what control he can, Vlad is trying to stop whatever arguments he comes across before there's any bloodshed. If he comes across a group of the guard and civilians having a disagreement, he will try to be the voice of reason, though even he finds his control fraying, words coming more snappishly than he means them to. If aggravated enough, he might be provoked into reacting, though how much depends on the situation at hand.]


ii: Wildcard
[Vlad will be in and around Olympia for this event, but he may be convinced to travel outside of it if there's a good enough cause for it. He is trying to find a place to belong here and knows that he's not a familiar face, which is making him stay his hand more than involving himself in whatever madness erupts. He can be reached in person or over the network, and is more likely to offer assistance to a familiar face.

I can be reached via PM or PP me @junglewere on Plurk.]
dorzalta: (pic#11766407)

i. YOU READY

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-23 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ That very same silver-haired queen shares his thoughts. Having returned promptly from Wyver, and having caught sight of the chaos which erupts amidst the city, she'd wasted no time in skirting past vandals and rioters to trail after one of the smaller dragons. It's quick, maneuvering amidst the random stomp of a foot, weaving through the crowds as if it is a natural.

She, of course, is not so natural. Even with the dragon's blood from the day prior, and despite all else, a body cannot shove its way past a cluster of them when said cluster has no will to move. So with a huff, she circles the group--

--and promptly bumps into Vlad. ]

I was born ready, baby

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objectionattorney: (Phoenix Objection Yell Point I have Evid)

Phoenix Wright | Olympia

[personal profile] objectionattorney 2018-02-22 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
I. Sinners To Play As Saints:

[Phoenix knew that tensions were getting to the point that it was uncomfortable even traveling outside, but never would he have expected that even going out for a quick grocery run would have been enough to put his life in peril.

Alas, he was remembered for his time up on the stage during the festival, and although he was a surprisingly decent actor it did not stop him from being recognized for how very off-script he had gone. And since the Theater district was right between his walk from work to home he wasn't the wiser when he was suddenly grabbed from behind.

He struggled as much as a thirty-five year old lawyer with no power or fighting experience could, but it was all fairly useless. So, once more he found himself dressed in a familiar wardrobe, standing awkwardly on the stage he was again greeted by the aggressive jeering of the audience. Again he was given the part of the mighty Wyver general, brought here to try and conquer the beloved adviser of Nithor the Exalted. Except this time he was given nothing but a basic household plunger as a weapon...
]

U-um! Ahah! Wow! Privy me to be caught off guard! But alas I am here to conquer that of Nithors allies! The fools dare try to defeat me and my armies of dragons and witches! I shall absolutely vanquish the knave who dare call themselves the lover of a man so foul! Come my men! Let us rush these stooges and show them the true glory that is Wyver!

[Did they really like his performance so much last time that the wanted to see him up here again?]

II. Chaos Erupts

[Four days.

It had been four days since Phoenix had taken refuge in his home from the chaos outside. And with each passing day the noise of the riots and violence grew louder and more chaotic. It was nerve wrecking, and worrying, and he absolutely despised feeling so very helpless in it all. And then, on the fourth day he knew he couldn't hold still any longer.

He didn't know what he could do to help, but he couldn't just stand around on the sidelines. It just wasn't in his nature.

After four days of locking himself away he stepped out into the chaos. Draped in his bright blue business suit, he once more looked like the proud official he used to be. Gazing through the dense fog which surrounded him for whatever chaos he could only hope to quell.
]


HOLD IT! Just what do you think you're doing!?

[There will be justice in this chaotic land or so help him! So if you are picking a fight with someone else or looting from one of the near by homes or businesses, be assured that Phoenix Wright is there to deescalate the situation! (Or at least try.)]

III. Palace Burns

Oh my god...

[Phoenix had heard what was going on through passing rumors. But seeing it first hand had been absolutely overwhelming. Running his way over to the Nobles District he stood before the grand building as it burned, watching as others ignored the flames and the shouting guards only to run in.]

Ah! You can't just go there! Wait!

[He didn't know who in particular he was shouting out to but if he could stop someone, anyone, it was the least he could do to help the situation. After all, it was dangerous in there wasn't it? And whether it was to aid or add further chaos to what was going on, Phoenix just couldn't stand there and allow more people to risk their own safety!

And so he reached out, grabbing at the sleeve of the first person he could take a hold of.
]

I said wait! Is something like this really worth risking your life for!?

IV. Wildcard!

((Any ideas or questions? Want to make an entirely different starter from those I've provided, feel free to throw them at me! Or contact me at [plurk.com profile] chohakkaifan))
Edited 2018-02-22 06:34 (UTC)
milesedgelord: (pic#12069310)

Home

[personal profile] milesedgelord 2018-02-22 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
[It had been two days since the chaos in the city had begun. Being a regular lawyer, with very little fighting ability, he had felt it was best to lay low for a little bit until the chaos died down, initially. Thankfully they were stocked with enough supplies at home to make it through a few days, without too much worry. He had taken initial precautions, such as moving the huge life-sized statue of lady justice and some of their larger furniture and mattresses to bar the doorway and the windows.

He settled down on the floor where he had made a small nest of blankets, with a warm cup of tea in hand. He tried his best to ignore the clamor that was going on outside.]


The fighting is getting closer. We need a contingency plan, in case things go south Phoenix.

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trample: (Default)

eren yeager | attack on titan | olympia

[personal profile] trample 2018-02-22 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
i. play as saints.
[ Eren only had one leg to break, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that any one of the members of the crowd would do it if the opportunity presented itself. It takes a sharp eye to catch the sharper steel of the weapons on the side of the Olympian actors, and he could almost laugh at how one-sided this situation was if he wasn't so well aware of the very real possibility of the impending mutilation.

After being taken from the side of a nearby road and dragged against his will - what could he possibly do against people with not just one, but two whole legs? - upon the stage, he was beaten, battered, and eventually brought to his knees (of which he still, fortunately, had two), head bowed to whoever was the lucky fellow wielding the proper sword. His hands were occupied trying to make his wooden prop into support so he could get back on his feet, but it snaps in two, not unlike his hopes of getting out of this with his pride intact. ]


Well. [ His head turns up just enough to glare at his opponent from below. ] Looks like I've got myself caught.
ii. the only refuge now.
[ Just walking down the street had, in the past, given him much struggle. Now bruised on what felt like every inch of his body, getting past a barricade like the one set before the sanctuary was out of question. That didn't mean he wouldn't make an attempt to get through by talking his way in, but they were apparently so full up that he, who so far had avoided taking a mortal wound, wasn't enough of a priority to let in.

As he tries to turn around to find some place that would have him, however, he's flung back by a gust of wind so strong that it would have knocked him down even if he had both of his legs. Now splayed on his back, he groans as he tries to rise, only stopping midway through once he sees what caused the wind in the first place - he can't help but stare at it with what seems to be resigned amusement. ]


Of course it's a bird. [ And one just big enough to kill him. Figures. His teeth grit. So this is it. This is where he dies. ] What a farce.

[ Save him? ]
iii. wildcard
( you know the drill. I'm pretty much up for anything. just let me know at [plurk.com profile] bondrewd or surprise me. I'd like a surprise, actually. )
frombetrayal: (023)

refuge!

[personal profile] frombetrayal 2018-02-25 10:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Save him? She's on it.

Haru's in the area because she's considering trying to convince the Sanctuary to at least give her some bandages for quick first aid out on the streets - but it becomes very clear, very quickly that her plan will have to wait. The arrival of a gigantic vulture tends to put a damper on things, after all.

Particularly when it seems to be of half a mind to try and eat some poor man.

She rushes forward to put herself between him and the creature, throwing her am out as if to shield him. She keeps her eyes on the beast, watching its movements, but it's Eren she addresses when she speaks.]


Sir, can you stand?

[What with his... leg... and all...]

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ininhuman: (ir41)

Maximus Boltagon | MCU | Olympia

[personal profile] ininhuman 2018-02-22 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
[i. CHAOS ERUPTS]

[ None of what's happening surprises Maximus. He's been here before, he recognized the signs, but he'd been too new and too late in his arrival to try and do anything about it. At first, he thinks, it's nothing. He can handle it. He can weather this.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Even before the mist settles in, his brain is tick-tick-ticking. What had happened, when he'd been here, done that? Left under the collapsed ruins of a mighty city, to starve and die on his own. That was when he was in control. Here, now, the city is turning into frantic madness and it's taking Maximus with it.

He has no control. He knows that. It terrifies him more than he'll admit. Vulnerability does not suit him. Easy, then, to lock himself in his home and bar the windows, watching the door with a restless gaze should anyone but Theon try to come inside. If he's on the street, out of necessity rather than choice, his anxiety is evident. Always looking over his shoulder, always looking at every person who passes, looking for what they might be hiding. His fingers itch for a blade at his side - something to defend himself from the next person who looks at him in just the wrong way.
]


[ii. PALACE BURNS]

[ It's hard to say how Maximus ended up in the palace. He's certainly not here to add to the destruction. Maybe it's the horror of it, the destruction of something so beautiful, that draws him in with the rest of the people, Olympia and Wyver sympathizers alike.

Or, likely, he just hadn't been minding his steps and somehow his feet brought him here. Regardless, he's here.

  • (1) The door is certainly formidable. Maximus watches people struggle, more than content to spectate, until money is offered. And, hey, what is there to lose? Maximus had been gifted a key not long ago, a key that so far has opened any lock he's tried it on, and it's weight is suddenly present in his pocket. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work, and he can only merely shrug at his failed attempt before someone else is pushing in front of him.

  • (2) The feeling of being in a palace under siege is not a good one. Maximus feels suffocated. He works his way back towards the gardens, towards the gates to the streets that will take him to the safety and the darkness of his home. On the way, he spots a small, leafy plant, still untouched by the fires scorching its brethren. If anything has earned Maximus' affections here, it's the variety of natural growing plants, and he scarcely thinks before tucking it up under his arms to take back with him.
  • ]

    Edited 2018-02-22 06:44 (UTC)
    nineteenfortyfive: (PICKPOCKET)

    i

    [personal profile] nineteenfortyfive 2018-02-22 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
    [When you're constantly looking over your shoulder, you might miss someone distractedly looking over hers after a nearly unpleasant encounter. Claire's a little ruffled, clearly uncomfortable, hurried, and very much not looking where she's going until she runs right into another body.]

    Sorry. I--[she's about to apologize more, hoping she's not about to get into a brawl, but her face goes absolutely blank.

    Please hold. Claire Fraser will be with you in just one moment.]

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    i!!!!!

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    america: (177)

    steve rogers | marvel cinematic universe

    [personal profile] america 2018-02-22 06:44 am (UTC)(link)
    ❚❚❚❚❚ i. OLYMPIA | BRAWLS IN TOWN / MIST

    [ Steve Rogers decides, somewhere in between one brawl fight and the next, to drop the Royal Guard's uniform back home (leaving a quick message for Peggy on his phone) and head back out to mediate some fights dressed more appropriately as Captain America - shield and all.

    It starts off simple enough - he keeps folks from looting and breaking into local shops, he breaks up fights (sometimes by literally throwing himself in between opposing forces), and he makes sure to get people to the medical help they require at the Sanctuary before their wounds are too great. It's tiring work, but it's a duty he's compelled to see through -- and his determination only grows stronger, perhaps even more aggressively, the further into the city he goes. ]


    Hey! [ He shouts, his voice far more commanding than his usual flare. ] Didn't I just tell you to knock it off?

    [ Why does he feel so angry, so goddamned annoyed by this? Maybe because it's useless; the more he tries to stop the fights, the more people seem to get worked up into punching others. There's yelling, slurs being spat, noses bloodied and eyes blackened - it's chaos out here and people show no signs of stopping.

    Well, two can play at that game.

    Steve whips a fist out, slamming one of the aggressors involved to the ground. The man goes down with a resounding thunk, groaning in pain. A fractured rib, maybe. A bruised spine. Steve turns back to the agitated crowd, daring them - daring them! - to pull another stunt like this guy.

    His chest feels tight with adrenaline. He hates that he feels strengthened by it. ]


    Who's next? I can do this all day.


    ❚❚❚❚❚ ii. OLYMPIA | SIMWE'S PALACE

    [ Somehow, by the end of the week, Steve manages to make it out with his limbs still intact. Somehow, he manages not to put too many others in the Sanctuary on his account, either because he'd hit them too hard or simply taken his anger out on them. It's all completely unlike him, and when he manages to calm down, just for a little bit, he decides to seek out answers.

    Before he can, however, he gets a call to the Empress's palace. There are fires to put out, and there are rumours of looting, nothing more than the burgeoning insanity that's plagued the city for far longer than its welcome. Never one to completely abandon his post, and feeling both fearful and guilty of his own part in this so far, he and others in his faction head there to intervene and contain the chaos.

    He can be found at various points of the castle, either physically stopping someone from stealing one of the royal artifacts, or calling out for someone to help him put out a fire before it spreads too quickly, catching onto curtains and feeding on the furniture. ]


    Hey, a little help here?

    [ Steve won't be found pilfering anything for himself, of course; he's far too honourable for that - but if he does catch you taking something, prepare for a good and stern talking-to. Or punching-to. Your choice. ]


    ❚❚❚❚❚ iii. WYVER | MONSTER BLOOD

    [ A few days later, when Olympia's unrest ceases to end, Steve takes on a lead he'd been following, which pulls him out of Olympia to be smuggled (more or less) into Wyver. Out of his Olympian Royal Guard's uniform, it's a little easier to be in cognito, but the questioning eyes and the outright stares never become easier to take. He can handle himself though; he always had. He keeps to himself, keeps his shield covered, and avoid as many questions as possible.

    His arrival into the neighbouring city eventually pulls him straight into the thick of the fight - again, and given who he is and what he's done for nearly all of his life, it's a position he'd prefer to be in than not. He's ready this time, and he has his aggression under better control. (He feels more like himself.)

    Shield strapped to his back in full view now, he watches for clues that'll lead him to answers about what straw exactly snapped to break the camel's back; and more than that, he keeps an eye out on those he's come to call his friends but who have decided to call Wyver their ... more permanent home. If he has to throw in the odd punch and a tussle with someone who can't keep their hands to themselves, well, Steve's there.

    It's when blood is drawn - and not the kind you'd think - that Steve hesitates. But the natives here are insistent, so insistent, even, that the blood of some strange El Nysa monster is shoved into his hands and he's forced to drink it on threat of death - and better yet, the death of a refugee, likely someone from an Earth just like his. Steve simply can't stand for that, and knowing what he does about the superserum coursing through his veins, he's sure he'll be able to take it. If anything, his body will metabolize it quick enough to avoid any adverse effects.

    It turns out ... maybe that's not entirely true. ]



    ❚❚❚❚❚ iv. WYVER | NAMARAK SUMMIT REVISITED

    [ Thankfully the monster's blood he'd ingested does metabolize a little quicker than your average non-super-soldier, and by the time Steve gets his wits about him once more, he finds himself following a path he'd gone on a while back, when things still seemed relatively peaceful between the Olympia and Wyver nations.

    Hell, this place had come to mean a lot for him because it was here, at this altar, that he and Peggy Carter promised to be partners in just about every way imaginable. They'd lent each other their strengths, and they made promises to honour and protect each other. It seems strange now, tragic even, to find this place in the same amount of chaos as everywhere else.

    Even the spiritual were not immune.

    What he'd recently learned from Peggy doesn't escape his mind; if anything, he grows more and more attune to the strange happenings here, picking up on bits of conversation about tests and experiments, and seeking new subjects. He's stumbled on something here and if he doesn't find Peggy wandering these halls, he'll try - at the very least - to get some information back to her. He knows he'd told her he wouldn't get involved ... but if you happen to stumble straight into something, you can't just leave it there, can you?

    He can handle himself.

    And the shaman that spots him seems keen to test that theory out, too.

    He could use some backup right about now. ]



    ❚❚❚❚❚ v. WILDCARD

    [ ooc: if none of these prompts are doing it for you, feel free to hit me up via PM, plurk ([plurk.com profile] thwip), or discord (spidey#2716) for plotting / or just leave a starter down below and we can do a thing. ]
    nineteenfortyfive: (PORTAL)

    i

    [personal profile] nineteenfortyfive 2018-02-22 06:56 am (UTC)(link)
    [Claire's no stranger to violence. This isn't an all out war, it's a fucking mess, but she uses the chaos to slip around relatively unnoticed. She's got a scarf wrapped around her hair and lower face (because what the hell is that unnatural looking mist?) when she comes across a particularly loud commotion, and being Claire, she can't resist looking instead of hurrying on her way.

    Steve is about the last person she expects to see, the shield recognizable, but the rest of him not so much.

    For a moment, she can only gawk. The slack jaw is hidden from view until she pulls down her scarf to speak.]


    Steve? What the hell?

    [He's ignored for the moment as she hurries to check on the man on the ground.]

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    punshots: (✘ clarendon.)

    prompto argentum / final fantasy xv / wyver

    [personal profile] punshots 2018-02-22 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
    I. FOR (VAIN)GLORY.
    [ Even if he is not fighting in this tournament, the spirit of friendly competition is something that Prompto can always get behind. Better everyone gets out their aggression this way than in some way more destructive, you know? Of course, this friendly competition is too good to last, and the fervor for blood among the natives becomes a liiiiittle too intense for his liking. In any case, around the tournament, he can be found doing two things:

    A. Helping out participants. [ Ever an exuberant supporter, Prompto spends plenty of time down with the fighters between matches, whether he's familiar with them or not. Everyone needs a smile and a bottle of water to get them back on their feet sometimes, and he is, of course, happy to provide.

    Or maybe your character has sustained a minor injury. That's fine! Prompto can help with that, too, even if he pipes up as he sorts through the med kit, holding up a roll of gauze that unravels out onto the ground: ]


    Hey, uh. I totally know how to use this, but I just wanna make sure that, uh, you do, too. So...go ahead! Spill!

    B. Brawls in the stands. [ When he's not down rallying the competitors, Prompto can be found in the stands, enjoying the battles from a distance. He's more of an ensemble fighter himself, so he's plenty happy to be occupying a seat above rather than duking it out, even if...things get progressively more chaotic as the tournament goes on, even among the spectators. It's not long before Prompto accidentally bumps into the wrong person, and then that person bumps into another wrong person, and before he knows it, a convoluted string of hey-are-you-talkin-to-me's break out around him, the entire section of seats erupting into a fight cloud almost simultaneously.

    Of course, he's seen this happen plenty of times in cartoons, so ducking low beneath the swinging arms, Prompto reaches out for the nearest non-aggressor he can see and tugs them by the wrist. ]


    C'mon! This way!

    [ Hopefully they can sneak out of this unnoticed... ]

    II. PAINT THE TOWN RED.
    [ From there, matters only get worse. Much worse.

    Though Prompto managed to avoid any obligation to actually drink any blood - and thank the Six for that, because gross, gross - his luck only holds out for so long and a bucket of Olympian blood is forced into his hands. They...can't really mean that, can they? This can't really be some Olympian's blood in here. It's just...animal blood, probably, the Wyverns too caught up in their, uh, reveling to admit it for what it is. But as he stares into the bucket, his stomach churning at the coppery smell, he can't help but wonder whose lives might be in this bucket. Who might have been cut and dried out for the simple purpose of making a mockery of their city.

    It's such a horrid thought that Prompto can only stand and stare at the bucket, pale-faced, for a few long moments, before the natives start snarling at him to do something with it. He's soft, they ridicule, soft enough to be an Olympian!

    Which is enough, at least, to startle him out of his reverie, but it's too late. Though the natives do not drag him away for his own blood-letting, his sympathetic nature clearly does not sit well with them. May as well let him bathe in the blood of those Olympians he loves so much, and before he can take even a few steps away, the bucket is ripped out of his hands, its contents hurled unceremoniously over him, drenching him in the sticky, thick liquid as the Wyverns laugh like it's the best joke they've ever seen.

    And he's...angry. Furious, even, an emotion that doesn't often visit him, but even in this state he can recognize the futility of trying to fight back here. He may be furious, but he's also humiliated, ashamed, regretful, violently upset - and without another word, he turns away from the group to dash away.

    That is - assuming they'll let him leave. He might need a hand - or perhaps just a friendly face to keep him from breaking down in the aftermath. ]

    III. THROUGH THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES.
    [ Perhaps it was his previous display with the Olympian blood, or perhaps it's the all the risks he's been taking to help the deserters outside Wyver finally catching up with him. In any case, the natives have deemed Prompto too sympathetic, once again - or, perhaps, just not passionate enough about Wyver.

    Whatever the reason, it's enough to have three natives bodily dragging him towards the nearest bonfire, calling his blood to serve a higher purpose. He doesn't go quietly, of course, but he's not strong enough to overpower all three of them. ]


    H-hey - lemme go, lemme go - watch the hair, man!

    [ He still has his priorities in order. Kicking and writhing slows their progress, but Prompto can't escape on his own. Lend him a hand, perhaps? ]

    IV. MAZE RUNNER.
    [ With how things have been going for him this week, it's all but inevitable that Prompto winds up in the labyrinthine halls of the Altar of Volkkra. What an unfortunate coupling, to be so completely done with all of this and then to be thrown into this place, like a mouse in a maze. It's all too cruelly familiar, waking up in a strange, unfamiliar place that someone else deemed it necessary to drag him to, and then left to his own devices to find his way out. What horrors will he find in these halls? The sounds are certainly unsettling enough, and it's so damned dark...

    Can't stop now.

    Prompto keeps moving, summoning a handgun into his grip in a flash of white-purple light. It's enough to reveal the path ahead for a moment, and in that moment, movement flickers across his field of vision.

    Heart leaping into his throat, he calls out: ]


    H-hello? Who's there? [ A beat, as he advances. ] One of the good guys, here! ...Which I know sounds just like what one of the bad guys would say to get you to trust them, but - you gotta believe me!

    [ Hopefully it's a captive willing to cooperate to get out of here instead of one of the shamans - or worse. ]

    V. WILDCARD.
    [ Got another scenario in mind? Go for it or feel free to hit me up at [plurk.com profile] retroscape if you want to plot something out! ]
    originallutece: there's something in that tear (shock; what's this what's this)

    II, obviously

    [personal profile] originallutece 2018-02-22 07:24 am (UTC)(link)
    [Fuck this universe.

    That's more or less what Rosalind has been thinking over the past few weeks, though the words she uses are considerably more high-class. But fuck Wyver, fuck Olympia, and fuck the Natha, because she'd been so happy before being brought here, and it seems enormously unfair that she has to go through any of this. Mobs, mobs and vitriol and the hideousness of a group of people intent on their own twisted values; she'd died before this had happened in her world, why should she have to go through it now?

    Olympia burns, and though Rosalind hasn't heard anything, she assumes Wyver is just as bad. And she has more than enough people there that she cares about; she can't stand waiting around to see if they're still alive. She teleports her way over to Wyver, slipping past the guards in her usual fashion, hoping only to stay for an evening or two and check in.

    Instead: here she is a week later, keeping at the shadows, trying not to catch the eye of anyone who might recognize her. There's bruises and burn marks on her arms, though she's wearing long sleeves, eager to hide them. And she's on edge, teleporting whenever she can get away with it, sticking to shadows when she can't. She's smoking in an alley, trying to soothe her nerves, as somewhere nearby, a group of men laughs. It's a sound hideous enough to make a shiver run down her spine, but she ignores it. They're not laughing at her, so why bother going to see and court trouble? No. No, she'll stay right where she is, thank you.

    Except it seems the universe doesn't want her to live in peace. Because suddenly there's a noise and motion and impact, and she's knocked over in an instant, sprawling down in the alley.

    And there's something hideous standing before her.

    A person, she realizes after a moment, blinking in shock as she stares up at him. A person covered in blood, absolutely dripping in it, and she doesn't know if he's injured or worse, but if those who did it to him are nearby, she doesn't want to stick around to see what they might do to her. Quick as a flash Rosalind leaps to her feet, ready to run, but--]


    Prompto?

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    triplerose: (fj72)

    Loras Tyrell | Game of Thrones | Wyver

    [personal profile] triplerose 2018-02-22 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
    [i. FOR GLORY]

    [ If there is a tournament to be had, Loras is there. The festivities make it seem like the tourneys of home, and his time fighting in the rings over the last few months fills him with confidence.

    He feels more like himself than he ever has.

    But by the time Loras is done with his first fight, things have escalated. Hs own fight had been more brutal than expected, and he can feel blood makinig his clothes to his skin, but now he hears the crowd calling for more than simply a cut or a slash. He slumps near a tent, not far, should he be called again, but he's already wondering if he can land that final blow - even if it's kill or be killed.
    ]


    [2. HEARTY DIETS - Painting Edition]

    [ At least Loras has a stomach for things a little senseless and gruesome, he thinks, as he watches people around him drink a variety of bloods. He does his best not to inquire what exactly it comes from, but he's heard everything from dragons to humans, and it's a practice he's doing well avoiding.

    He can't avoid blood forever, though. As a man trying to make himself out to be an upstanding citizen of Wyver, when he's handed a simple amulet and a small cup of blood, he doesn't even think to say no. The instruction is simple enough: decorate the amulet, keep it to help imbue strength. There are no brushes, it seems, and, remiss as he is, Loras dips his finger into the thick red liquid to paint a rose on the charm.
    ]


    [iii. WILDCARD]

    Choose your own adventure or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] fritzwinky.
    Edited 2018-02-22 07:09 (UTC)
    dorzalta: (Default)

    2

    [personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-23 12:46 am (UTC)(link)
    [ Strangely, these lands are far more welcoming to her than Olympia. There's a certain irony in that, knowing the Starks occupy a stronghold further beyond. They would always be northerners, would they not? But this place...

    Wyver invigorates her in a way she knows all too well. The taste of familiarity is in the air, both with the dragons of this place, as well as the heat and humidity. It's like she walks the cities of Essos once more, and despite herself, a pang of affection softens her to the people here.

    ...The dragon's blood, not so much. Still, a cup is shoved into her hand and taunts are made. She indulges them with a sip, and this satisfies them enough for her to skirt away. There are eyes which remain on her, meaning she cannot discard of her cup without raising suspicion. So she wanders and sips, ignoring the sharpness of seeming flames which feel as if they set her mouth alight and burn all the way down her throat.

    It's this sensation she marvels in when she catches sight of Loras. ]


    I wonder if you might paint a dragon next, [ said by way of greeting. She settles beside him and ponders the charm he holds. ] These customs remind me of the Dothraki.

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    eusford: (pic#10996209)

    crowley eusford | owari no seraph

    [personal profile] eusford 2018-02-22 07:12 am (UTC)(link)
    i. chaos erupts
    [ Apathetic, he doesn't so much as blink when he ventures out into the streets and observes the damage. There's no real reason for him to step in when it's an act of rage by the very people who built this city themselves—however his eyes fixate on a group of Olympians that were mercilessly attacking their own. Faces contorted in anger with smiles splitting their faces into two separate expressions; it is without a doubt that they don't feel an ounce of sympathy for the individual whose blood now paints the ground. The raw contact of skin cracking against skin with each punch hitting his ears as if it were happening to him.

    It's sick.

    It's inhumane—but all too human at the same time.

    A small fragment of a memory long ago surfaces in the back of his head, one that he initially pushes back but is succumbed by what was once a young man who devoted himself to protecting the weak. And minutes later he's disrupted the group from their violent act, revealing that their target was a young woman whose face reminded him of someone else. Though now isn't time to laugh at the irony of it all.

    He's already picking the woman into his arms by the time he catches the figure of someone in the corner of his eye. ]
    If you're gonna try anything cheap, I won't go easy on you like I did the rest of them. [ And that's very much a threat. ]

    ii. critical condition

    Of course.

    [ Whether you partnered with Crowley this far, accompanying him after he's taken up the responsibility of the woman he had encountered earlier or somewhere in between, or not, you're both standing before the woman quivering with a bow in her hands. Based off of his expression he seems mildly annoyed by the situation at best, but in truth he's pissed—if he were human his blood would be boiling in response.

    He clicks his tongue, the woman he's carrying on his back breaths becoming more shallow as the seconds pass. ]


    I could just kill her and we can take whatever we need, but that would be "bad", right?

    [ He's a split second from snapping her neck, in all honesty, try to convince him not to.

    Or not. ]

    iii. wildcard

    ( want to do something else? feel free to write something up or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] vongaribaldi if you'd like to plot out anything specific! )
    cassus: 🚫Do Not Take (pic#)

    ii. critical condition

    [personal profile] cassus 2018-02-22 08:02 am (UTC)(link)
    [ It's a strange state of affairs, but their rag-tag band of three find themselves at something of a crossroads. Essentially the lives of two people hang in the balance, considering the very real possibility that Crowley may sacrifice one woman for another.

    There's a sense of irony here that someone with stronger morals would feel down to their bones. But for Dazai that instinct is less tangible than it is perceived. He should feel outrage and fear and a sense of protectiveness for both lives at stake. But his mind can only know what should be the morally correct answer. ]


    Oh, absolutely! And it's not often that you can simply get away with murder.

    [ He rocks on his heels, thinking. ]

    Things could get messy if someone else leads it back to you.

    [ Dazai acts like he's whittling off useless little facts, but he's actually surveying the barricade blocking off access to The Sanctuary. His physical abilities are meager and resigned to that of a moral man's, but the way Crowley carries himself makes Dazai wonder if the man might be capable of so much more. ]

    But if you simply disarm her, that's a different story. [ An addendum ] Not literally, of course. That too would be bad.

    [ Amused by his own sense of humor he continues on, pressing for an answer to a question Crowley may or may not be willing to hand over. ]

    I can distract her. [ Dazai withdraws a gun from his coat. ] If you can make it over the wall with the injured girl.

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    ii, but also wildcardish

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    he's gonna beat his ass

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    smithandwesson: (Bloody Monk)

    Genjo Sanzo | Saiyuki | Wyver

    [personal profile] smithandwesson 2018-02-22 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
    I. For Glory

    [Funny. Sanzo was never really one to sign himself up for such ridiculous displays of strength before he had come to El Nysa. He usually saw such competitions as a pointless cock-fight for self-conscious assholes to give themselves something to brag over.

    But this was his second tournament since he had arrived on the planet. And these days he couldn't help but find himself thriving for it more than he ever had back home. Was it because he was growing antsy? He certainly wasn't used to living life so compliantly. Or perhaps he had simply grown addicted to the risk. After all, when was there a moment he hadn't been putting his life on the line?

    None the less, before he knew it, he was standing in the middle of the tournament grounds. Crowds were cheering for blood on all sides and, surprisingly, he couldn't help but find himself enjoying the thrill.

    Looking up his eyes met his opponent, his expression neutral and seemingly carefree despite being one of the first fights of the day.
    ]

    Just want to say. Sorry in advance.

    [The battle was about to begin after all, and the best thing about this was that there were no limitations. Of course that meant that he was far more likely to lose his own life in all this. But that had never bothered him before.]

    II. Hearty Diets

    [Where many of those new to Wyver would have shirked at the concept of drinking the fresh blood of a dragon, Sanzo was all in. After all, it wasn't his first time doing it. Thanks to a previous escapade involving sneaking into his own job while off duty and a sassy talking raccoon, Sanzo had familiarized himself fairly well with both the flavor and the effects it imbued.

    So it was with the admiration of those around him that he chugged the hot heavy liquid down. Exhaling heavily and bracing himself for the sharp burn as he ignored the enamored jeers of those around him.
    ]

    This is nothing...

    [He muttered under his breath before making his way to the sales table which seemed to be peddling the fluids of dead beasts as if they were sweet delicacies. His attention piqued as he approached a particularly hesitant looking peruser.]

    Having second thoughts?

    III. Beastly Exhibits

    [As much as Sanzo enjoyed Wyvers more simple and genuine way of going about things, and as much as he enjoyed the sense of familiarity his current job gave him, he didn't quite agree with all the countries habits. Kidnapping innocent people for nefarious purposes, for example, was pretty high on his 'no' list.

    And yet that was exactly what his place of work was doing. In fact they seemed to be celebrating their actions as they dragged blindfolded people in by the dozens.

    Sanzo did his best to fake disinterest as he saw it happen. But in the end, despite his usual aloof and often times cold-hearted actions, he still had a conscious when it came to helping those who were forced into situations they didn't deserve.

    And so, on occasion, he would sneak into the labyrinth that was the temple. Donned in traditional shaman robes he would wander the halls, looking much like many of the other armed pursuers who would chase after those who were being offered for research. But instead of attacking those who were lost and confused, he would approach them with an ulterior motive.

    Sneaking up upon the unsuspecting and lost wanderer, he would reach around them, knife in one hand and gun in the other (one of the joys of being ambidextrous really). Placing the blade to their neck and gun to their back before whispering out harshly.
    ]

    Don't move. Don't struggle. Just take a deep breath, calm down, and do exactly what I say. And I may just be able to get your unlucky ass out of here.

    IV. Wildcard!

    ((Have an alternate situation you wish to throw Sanzo into with your character? Feel free to leave a starter here! If you have any questions or ideas feel free to contact me on Plurk at [plurk.com profile] chohakkaifan -or- ChoHakkaiFan#5971 on Discord!))
    thawedheart: (oh shit son)

    beastly exhibits

    [personal profile] thawedheart 2018-02-25 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)
    [Yukina's been in here once before. Shortly after her arrival, to help people find their way out - she never expected to wind up in here again, least of all like this. But... here she is.

    She's been trying not to panic, but it's hard not to - especially not when Sanzo sneaks up on her. Her breath catches as she feels the barrel of the gun press into her back and feels the blade at her neck.

    Breathe. Breathe.

    Slowly, she nods.]


    ...I'm listening.

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