natha: (Default)
ɴᴀᴛʜᴀ orbiters ❰ mod collective ❱ ([personal profile] natha) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-04-09 07:55 pm
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( introlog #5 ) strangerer things

You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you've made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren't expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you'd help the planet thrive. Are you ready?

Submit an AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 OLYMPIA REP POINTS OR 2 WYVER REP POINTS, respectively, HERE or HERE.

THESA STATION    
All refugees on the station are called to the hangar where a large-scale teleporter has been set up; everyone will be sent to the planet together. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait. Before they depart, all new refugees will be given a starter kit!

You may have heard about earlier technical difficulties, but don't worry. I promise everything is in perfect working order this time. I'd say I tested it myself, but since that's not exactly possible, you'll just have to trust me! (Please.)

The older refugees will also be there to guide you to ensure no one is left confused... or behind. Make sure you wait for them — I've been detecting something odd so I'll be having them meet you at the landing site. Good luck, refugees! Not that you'll be needing it or anything...

The arrays begin to hum and glow, quickly building into a brilliant wash of light. It creates a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa. With the night sky as a canvas, the beam can be seen all the way from Olympia and Wyver — a view that has the natives whispering of blessings.

As a sudden but beautiful aurora splays across the sky, the refugees down on the planet receive a message asking them to travel to the landing site — and warning them to prepare for what may come of the strange readings Zasere's gotten from the teleport itself.
ON A BEAM OF LIGHT    

Traveling through the light leaves the impression of blinding starlight, a strange sense of weightlessness, and a disorienting moment of total sensory deprivation. The radiance of your teleport hangs bright in the sky above you, a shimmering aurora that reflects off the calm waters below, visible for miles all around.

You've landed on a peninsula to the east of the South Outpost. There's little here — scattered trees on spring-barren plains, with a few overgrown, dilapidated structures poking out of the brush. All is quiet save for the keening of animals and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. This lonely desolation is hardly the bustling cities and vibrant cultures you were promised back on the station...
BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW. But waiting for you is a group of your predecessors, and with them, a veritable tent city, with portable stoves, coolers of food and drink, comfortable bedrolls, and cheerful rings of bonfires — all that you need to make merry of the night, courtesy of Overseer Voss, who has, thanks to his interest in blessed meteorological phenomena and refugees, decided to make a holy expedition of the affair.

Settle in, meet new comrades, and enjoy yourself, for you've safely completed your journey. But don't wander too far from the fires — the dark is closing in, and there's a strange, electric feeling in the air, the scent of ozone drifting on the breeze. And what were those odd readings Zasere mentioned?



A SHEPHERD OVER THE FLOCK. The spring sun dawns on a grey morning, already burning away the fog rolling in off the sea. It quickly becomes apparent that Voss and his entourage of acolytes have been up for hours, hard at work. They've set up a brightly-draped stage and a travel pulpit, magically enchanted to amplify his voice, and as the sun breaks over the horizon, Voss is all set to do what he does best: proselytize.

As our Goddess has sent Her blessing once before to herald the coming of those touched by Her light, so She has done once again! Here you see them, those surrounded by the light of our Goddess, each of them bearing the mark upon their skin of Her holiest of hands! Do you not see? Do none among you bear witness to the righteousness of Her message? Perhaps this is why our people have shamed themselves in front of our Goddess—

[ He continues for another 15 minutes... ]

Nevertheless. See you them before us now! See them as they are, coming to our gates with Her reminder, that these people must be treated with the utmost respect and care. Thesa's divinity is not to be treated with such flagrant disregard! Those who She chooses are not ours to use as mindless fodder, to hurt, to torture — shame upon those who allowed such deeds to shame us under Her watchful gaze!

To those of you who have just arrived here on our doorstep, be not afraid! The Temples of Thesa welcome you to our home with hearts and minds open! Should you ever find yourself in need of solace, seek out the Temples, as there are no greater allies to you than those of us within the Temple walls. You are welcome all to Olympia!


As he steps away from the enchanted podium, he can be heard saying aside to an acolyte, "How was that? Heavy on the shame, but I think it went well!" While he will not leave the area immediately, his acolytes will politely turn away attempts to speak with him and remind anyone interested that they can leave a message at the Temples.
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS    

Despite going off without hitch, the new refugees' arrival isn't entirely without incident. It seems that the "blessed" beam of light that brought the refugees down to El Nysa brought something else along with it — a sliver of the Storm. At least the beam was short enough that only a small fraction managed to squeeze through.

But it's enough to wreak a little havoc around the landing site and along the road back toward Olympia and Wyver — and even, for a few days, in the cities themselves.
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. The Storm is an undeniably destructive force, and that's proven with this small sliver's effect as it ripples across the continent. While there's no visible sign of its presence, strange phenomena soon begin to appear, corresponding with Zasere's odd readings.

They're innocuous little things at first. A sudden silence, animals going quiet, insects stilling. All technology, no matter how advanced, ceases working. You discover when you check with a friend, the clock on your phone is twelve minutes slow even though you'd swear only a minute had passed — time missing. Walking through the woods takes longer than it should when brushing past one bush leads to brushing past that same bush again — and again, and again, the area looping on itself. It keeps you trapped, going in circles for minutes, even hours, before finally releasing you in a random direction.

Or perhaps you'll feel a sense of deja vu, like you've walked down this road, taken this turn, seen that bird fly from this branch before. This is the second time that cat has crossed your path. The person you're meeting, you already know their name; you're certain you've already met.



WE GOT COWS. The Storm sliver also ushers in sudden, localized weather anomalies — heavy storms, blizzards, strong winds, and more. Affected areas range from just a few feet wide to nearly half a mile. One minute, the sky may be sunny and clear, but the next dark storm clouds roll in, unleashing torrential rain. Small tornadoes surge along the road, kicking up winds strong enough to knock people over and carry objects away. Hail hurtles down from the sky, but only in a ten foot radius. Temperatures fluctuate wildly between one extreme and the next, from heat waves to cold snaps. Soupy fog blankets the area, thick enough that you can barely see your hand in front of your face. Good luck finding your way!



FORGETTING IS SO LONG. The visions come on suddenly and with very little warning. One second, you're carrying on as normal — but the next, you blink and find yourself (and anyone near you) somewhere else completely. You may recognize this place as a moment from the past, one that you lived through. It's a memory, your memory, and it now replays around you in exceptional detail, unnervingly lifelike. Or you may not recognize it at all. It might belong to the person next to you, or to someone else entirely — a memory that the Storm has swallowed up.

Either way, the scene plays out just as it once did, and there's nothing you can do to stop it — or escape it. The memory surrounds you to no end: every door you open leads nowhere, every hallway you turn down continues on forever, every horizon you flee toward hangs just out of reach. And linger too long or turn the wrong corner, and you may find yourself abruptly stuck in a completely different memory. It's almost tempting, then, to give up, to let the past sweep you away...

But this isn't the full might of the Storm. Look closely, and you can see that in the walls of this trap, there are minute, hairline cracks, a facade of fractured glass. Imperfections in the memory where the real world is breaking through. It seems the only way to escape these memories is to find those cracks and break through them — by force, by will, or by some other method entirely.
DECISIONS, DECISIONS...    

The time is coming to make a choice — perhaps not a permanent choice, but unless you want to spend the rest of your nights out under the stars, you'll need to pick which city you will initially spend your time in. On the horizon, you will see that people have arrived to help you make that decision...
A FORK IN THE ROAD. Refugees and the hyper-religious wishing to hear Voss speak are not the only ones out and about under the light of the aurora. Citizens of both Olympia and Wyver have flocked to a point on the road midway between the cities and where the refugees have appeared, and they all have the same goal in mind: convincing the newcomers who have just descended in the blessed light of Thesa to come to their city and not the other.

They've come with bribes — that is, examples of what their cities have to offer. If you spent much time at the exhibition up on Thesa Station, you might recognize some of what's being shown off, though the offerings here are markedly more tangible, and shown off by hawkers wearing substantially fewer clothes.

A herd of pegasi accompanies the Olympians, while a line of flying serpents is stabled at a tent bearing Wyver colors. Refugees are given the chance to experience solo flights and are told that if they prove their loyalty, they may have the privilege of owning such fine beasts one day themselves. The Olympians have also brought couture clothing, jewelry, and makeup to offer a taste of Olympian splendor, while the Wyver delegation has brought along fine weapons, sense-enhancing jungle plants, and small vials of diluted dragon’s blood (drinking confers a temporary boost in strength) to demonstrate their might. The Olympians speak proudly of the glory of the Temples of Thesa; the Wyverns speak of the Volkkran Pact and inform newcomers that they can make a pilgrimage to the summit of Namarak Mountain at the next full moon.

This is as good a time as any to compare your plans with others around you and exchange contact information before going your separate ways with people who are going to the city you are not. When you’re ready to go, don’t worry about safe passage — the natives of each city will gladly escort you there in luxury.



OF WHITE AND GOLD. The people of Olympia are ecstatic that you’ve come to join them... So much so that they’ve prepared a grand tour of the city for the new arrivals. You will be introduced to the major businesses in the city, including businesses that they are proud to point out were founded by refugees.

Refugees who have been here for some time already are encouraged to pair up with newcomers to introduce them to the parts of the city they like best. To facilitate this, they’ve made arrangements with many of the business owners: new refugees who visit their shops (and older refugees who escort them) are given discounts!

Just a few examples of many: the Wyvernest offers free desserts to first time visitors with the purchase of a drink, refugees who visit the Silk Wyrms can have one custom (though not exceedingly expensive) outfit made for them for free, and visitors to Shades Darker are offered a half-hour session with one of the prostitutes at half price… or access to a private room, if they seem to have taken a shine to one of their companions on the tour.

Lastly, tour guides will point out that over the course of the next week, the train to Flona Cove will allow new refugees to board for free so that they can experience the seaside for themselves. With the weather finally starting to warm, this is as good a time as any for a visit to the beach, isn’t it?



OF RED AND BLACK. Life in Wyver is typically a sink-or-swim sort of experience — but in light of the valor recently displayed by their predecessors, the natives are now more willing to assist in getting newcomers settled. The entire journey here they have been talking up the virtues of their city… and now is the time to show everything that's on offer.

The well-known businesses in the city are prepared for the influx of newcomers. Some are giving out discounted samples of their products while others are offering a more hands-on experience: in exchange for working a few hours, they will give training in whatever task is being performed.

At the Forged, newcomers can learn the basics of crafting simple weapons (and take one of their successes home), while visitors to spas near the lagoons are trained in the art of massage. Those who wander to Falmi’s Ring can learn the art of pugilism or how to keep (and fix) books if they're more inclined to the gambling that goes on. Newcomers interested in Wyver's dragons can get hands-on experience at the Fields of the Exalted's nursery. While they walk from place to place, a guide may point out a job posting from Highwind Hires, noting that refugees can make a name for themselves outside official channels.

The last stop on the tour is the Undergrowth. The guides speak of the jungle in reverent tones and caution new refugees not to wander too far in. They warn never to explore alone, but also urge refugees to take time to familiarize themselves with it; after all, the jungle is an important part of life in Wyver, and those who are going to be living here should understand it as well as they do.
You've chosen your path, refugee, but that doesn't necessarily make it a permanent one. Watch out for the strange effects of the Storm, which linger still in the two cities and everywhere in between for the next few days before dissipating just as mysteriously as they came, but otherwise enjoy the welcome and make yourself at home — after all, this is home now.
FINAL OOC NOTES    
An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 REP POINTS FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE AND HERE RESPECTIVELY BY APRIL 29th 11:59 PM EST.

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vorrutyer: (considering foot size)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2018-04-15 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ By lets out a breath. And for a moment, he wonders whether he did the right thing. If haranguing Dorian into hatred was truly...correct. He hadn't really thought about the consequences of his ferocious advocacy.

Well. Too late to back off now. So he nods, sharply, and steps forward. ]


Fuck them both. We might be rather fucked ourselves, but at least we're an improvement over them.
poolhall_killer: (behind you)

[personal profile] poolhall_killer 2018-04-15 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh.

[It's a convincing lie because Venom doesn't detect any reason to doubt his friend. Because of all of his visiting in Olympia and Wyver, he never had a chance to check out the pods above.]

That's good to hear, then.

I am all right, though I am a bit exhausted from all the traveling I've been doing.

[personal profile] judicia 2018-04-15 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
I did something horrible.

( He says, looking down, not wanting to see what Justice's expression looks like when it changes. He expects there might be anger, disappointment, or maybe something in between. His heart sinks at the thought, of making his friend lose all his respect in him.

Justice's hand against his doesn't provide him much comfort, but Anders savors it and squeezes against it anyway. )


I saw it happen in one of the illusions. It showed me what would have happened to Kirkwall if the Storm hadn't come and destroyed it.
almaredemptoris: (Default)

un

[personal profile] almaredemptoris 2018-04-15 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[It is unlike any prison Jean Valjean has known - the facilities appear clean and sterile in white, a stark contrast from the dirty brick and imposing iron of his past - yet he recognizes it for what it is. The latticed bars guarding each cell instill in him the old feeling of entrapment and ignite in him the old instinct for escape. What horrifies him most of all, however, are the faces he spies between the bars: children, all of them, but stripped of the joy that God rolled into their beings.]

What is this place?

[This question he asks the surrounding dimness, casting his eyes about in search of someone who might answer. His voice, at first hollowed out by his horror, fills now with his compassion.]

Why are these children here, locked up like convicts? Who could do this to innocent souls?
vorrutyer: (hung over 1)

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2018-04-15 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ As they step through, though, the scene dissolves and changes. They're outdoors, all of a sudden, on a world with air that's impossibly sweet and clean. The copse of trees they find themselves in - it's heart-stoppingly beautiful, maples with heart-shaped foliage rustling as sunshine filters through, the ground dotted with ferns amidst odd alien plants in fantastical shades of red.

Byerly's eyes go narrow, and he turns to look at Dutch. It's clear from his face that he recognizes this place.

A boy crashes through the greenery. He's very small, and quite slender, and pants and wheezes in a way that sounds rather asthmatic. No mistaking those eyes, though, beautiful and long-lashed even then.

He's running from something. He stumbles to a halt before an old willow with thick leaf cover, and looks up at it with terrified eyes - with a shudder, gathers his courage and starts to climb - and then stops a single branch above the ground, shaking. Poor little coward is more afraid of heights than he is of whatever is chasing him. ]


Ah. Yes.

[ Byerly murmurs that quietly to himself. ]
illuminescent: (Lucy - can't believe this)

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-04-15 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Well.

They like to be complimented. And to hear far ranging gossip. They cannot move very far from their tree.
illuminescent: (Lucy - sunshine)

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-04-15 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[Lucy is bringing her to one who looks friendly, and slightly sweet.]

Here.

Hello, sweetheart.

[Lucy puts her hand out.]

Do you ride, lady?
illuminescent: (Lucy - in silence)

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-04-15 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
You ought to be careful, to not break them.

And find a good healer. Such wounds infect easily.
illuminescent: (Lucy - in silence)

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-04-15 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
They are beautiful. It would be a shame if you had lost them.

Will you hold my hand, sir? I should not like to lose you.

[Just in case, as it were. She reaches and laces her fingers in his, but this is purely and simply platonic.]

I have been very quiet. I think heartache does not suit me.

[personal profile] krasnaya_vdova 2018-04-15 11:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[She asked for a reason, because she didn't want to push him. She didn't want to ask him about anything that might be too uncomfortable or unpleasant. It was pretty clearly recent, albeit not too recent, enough to have healed, but still pink in places. She got to her feet moving so they were face to face, but nowhere near eye to eye, given he had most of a foot on her in height. But it gave her a better look at him, especially as she pushed herself up onto her toes with a faint hum. Trying to pretend that the idea that he'd had a literal building collapse on him didn't send a spike of nerves through her.

He was here, he was okay. Maybe she shouldn't be so attached; it was one conversation after intermittent visits when she'd been a child, objectively an entirely different person from who he was now. But she didn't have a lot of people, and he accepted her, was nice to her, easy to talk to without having to worry about how he'd react. And he didn't make her feel like no one saw her as anything other than a child, the way Coulson had, and even Steve did sometimes. Which was perhaps ironic, in that if anyone had a reason to see her as a child, it would have been Rumlow.]


I'm just glad you're alive. You're lucky, you know. Or maybe just stubborn. [Teasing a little, but it's not quite as overtly playful, just a slight twitch of her lips.] Did someone blow the foundation? Because those are burns, and not just from friction.

[She took him at face value, because she had no particular reason not to. And even if she found out later, Ava was a person who understood not telling people the whole truth. She hadn't told Steve the whole truth about who she was, hadn't told Peggy about what a mess SHIELD was. And that was without taking Natasha's view on truth and circumstances into account. The fact was that sometimes the reasons you didn't tell someone the truth weren't even about them.

She almost wants to touch them, because she's a tactile person even if she pretends otherwise, but for a moment she restrains herself. She's reminded of a saying, from the Red Room. Not from Ivan, but from her days before she'd been one of his special girls. Lessons from a Matron who was never kind, but she did not cause suffering for suffering's sake. Ava has a lot of feelings about scars, even if hers run deep, aren't so visible on the skin, they're still there, always will be. Natasha's imprints on her psyche, Alexei on her heart.]


Scars aren't about failing, you know. They're a reminder that you're stronger than whatever gave it to you. Even a building, in your case. So they're not.. ugly or shameful, or the way people look at them. [She knows he's probably gotten looks. They're obvious, and she can't imagine what it was like when they were new. Tentative, uncertain, she reaches up with one hand to trace the edge of the burns on the left side of his face, if he lets her. She watches him closely, and if he seems uncomfortable or shifts away, she'll stop before she even gets there. She's so very tactile, but with most people she doesn't initiate physical contact if she can help it.

There had been a few times she'd hugged Natasha, and it had been rather like hugging a door. So she was timid about it, always conscious of rejection, of not being allowed in other people's space, even if it added to the loneliness. Sana had been the first one to really make it okay. And everything is so easy with Rumlow, she's willing to risk it, even if she's still a little shy.]


Well. And you know what they say women think about scars. [A slight curve of her lips, adding just a slight touch of levity.]
originallutece: do you even know what an atom is? (talk; all right let's start)

[personal profile] originallutece 2018-04-15 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, that's interesting. Rosalind finally focuses on him, eyes darting about his face. She wants to ask him a fair few questions, but suddenly there's a few bizarre creatures attacking, and she takes a few steps back.]

A good point.

[But she won't be deterred:]

Why did you need to keep track of him?
versianvirtue: (32)

[personal profile] versianvirtue 2018-04-15 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)
At the offer, Asseylum pries herself off the window to direct the power of her sparkly gaze at him, instead.

"There's so much more to see in there... I would love to go inside!"

Indeed: bakeries, cake shops, patisseries — anyplace purveying sweet, fluffy cakes had long been nothing but lore to someone like Princess Asseylum. Mars was rather limited in the kinds of ingredients readily available, even to the highest class of citizens. Therefore, she could only understand such delicacies as descriptions and a picture slideshow. They're even prettier in person, almost too pretty to consider food. They look more like art than anything edible. It excites her beyond reason.
steponme: look, shock, blush (♩ Took to me)

1/3

[personal profile] steponme 2018-04-15 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I-It's not what it--
seeingscarlet: (happy; 180)

[personal profile] seeingscarlet 2018-04-15 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I even have a spoon, too.

[The bowl's a little dinged up, like this is definitely not the first trip it's taken. The iron spoon's also seen better days.]

It was learn or live off snacks. My brother has no patience for it.
steponme: blush, tsun (♫ That is tragic)

[personal profile] steponme 2018-04-15 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
...well, no, it's exactly what it looks like.

[...]
steponme: blush, tsun (♪ When you try your best)

[personal profile] steponme 2018-04-15 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Look, we're just friends.

[There are so many complicated feelings going on rn]
ukase: (Playing your fool)

[personal profile] ukase 2018-04-15 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[This wasn't Rumlow's first rodeo. He wasn't shy of his scars, and he was one of the few people that could appreciate them for the story that they told of the life circling around them. He had had a host of scars, many of them long ago faded, but others were very much a part of him. Knife wounds, bullet holes, the general rough-housing life that came with being part of a military-like group of people. HYDRA was certainly not gentle on their recruits or agents either, but those scars were generally left beneath the surface for only the agent to understand the implications of.

He wondered if she was the only person who could say that about him though. I'm just glad you're alive. She was the first person to say that to him since he had arrived here, and he knew for a fact that he didn't deserve it, that the story behind them would cause the usual revulsion. However, if Ava was anything like Natasha, she likely existed in a world of grays rather than black and white. That's how many agents existed, where there were personal lines in the sand they wouldn't cross.]


Jet fuel. [His lips twisted because there was no point of lying on that fact. There was a clear difference to friction and burning, the smooth melted nature of the burns around his eyes. It should have been a lot worse, but maybe he had been put in the pod before it had melted most of his skin off.] Impact damage from an aircraft hitting the building. No chance to get out, but I got lucky... and I am stubborn.

[He knew that she was trying to be comforting, that she was making a go of it and being rather socially awkward in her attempt. They hadn't socialized her that well and it wasn't as if the Red Room was big on behaviours that made their future agents warm and genuinely fuzzy. Some were better than others of course.

The fact of the matter was that his scars were a visible show of his failure, of how Insight had failed, how his very world had come crashing down with it. He had lost everything except his life. He had lost his team, his organization, his structure, his reason for getting up in the morning. HYDRA didn't exist here, but the people who knew that he was branded by the organization (had lived, breathed, died for it because there was no retirement) made the very potential life here difficult. He stepped out of line and his head would likely get punched off.

Which left him few options. Return to the time before HYDRA, when he had been a snot nosed kid with a knife in hand, a bit to much in the way of smarts and a mean streak that he had picked up early on. There was an underworld here, of course. He knew he could slip into it like putting on a glove, but the fact was: he had failed and he was alive to swallow that bitter pill little-by-little.]


Some would say they finally put some of my ugliness on the outside. [He didn't say who because there was no point. It was some truth, that he did bad things for good reasons.

He didn't refuse her exploring touch; she had always been that kid that needed to verify things with her hands anyway. He was used to that, had half expected that she would make a go of it.]


Last woman who commented on them beyond you has threatened to throw me through a wall four times. Oh and break me over her knee. And kick my balls off. [He shrugged. It was no big deal the gesture said.]
terrantrash: (01)

[personal profile] terrantrash 2018-04-15 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah...her gaze is blinding. He should've brought sunglasses.

There's no time like the present, as far as Slaine's concerned, and he's more than ready to usher her inside, moving to open the door and hold it for her. Why wait when she could be stuffing her face with cute cakes and he could have the delightful experience of watching her be delighted?

"Shall we?"
quintessent: (But he has no action)

[personal profile] quintessent 2018-04-15 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[The sword the man is carrying is impressive (if it's even a sword. It looks like some marriage between that and a circuit board), but asking for a closer look at it is a request better suited for later, after they've had proper introductions.

Ladies first he offers, and she responds with a tight lipped smile and a nod, before taking off at a jog. Eyes squinted against the rain in her face, Allura moves nimbly, only getting tripped up once by combo of muddy ground and gust of wind that causes her to stumble. She turns to look behind her, both to check and make sure he's still with her, and to caution,
] Be careful! The ground here is slicker than it looks!

[Not too much further now,]
thunderblight: (☀ 40)

[personal profile] thunderblight 2018-04-15 11:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ DULY NOTED. She'll just have to do it when he's not already on the edge of spontaneously imploding out of pure excitement.
Urbosa can't really get over the fact the tiny Zora child has grown so goddamn huge in (to her) the blink of an eye. Small wonder considering how absolutely massive King Dorephan is - either way, Sidon's unusual shyness is met with a patient smile. ]


I have, in fact. She seems to be doing very well for herself.
quintessent: (Someone I don't know)

[personal profile] quintessent 2018-04-16 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Luckily, jumpsuits meant for the cold void of space also work pretty well against a cold wind. But that doesn't do much to help protect against the cold nipping across her face.]

That could explain it. [She frowns, thoughtfully,] If the teleport somehow interfered with the planet's atmosphere...

[Slowly, the rain begins to change, water changing into pellets of ice and slush. Allura retreats closer to the trunk of the tree, wincing,] Unfortunately that does nothing to help our current situation.

[Whatever the reason, there's not much they can do against the weather, other than endure.]
versianvirtue: (29)

[personal profile] versianvirtue 2018-04-16 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
So... it really is magic!

[The excitement continues. Asseylum can hardly contain herself. Granted, a few of the things she is capable of herself might be considered a level of 'magic' to some, but it's far more equated to advanced technology passed down from a supercivilization than anything magical. To her, this is pure wizardry.]

And your world is full of it, you say? I must confess, where I come from, people are used to the concept of magic, but only as a fictional element, like from a fairytale or a fantasy book. That is why I'm so presently surprised... I never thought I would come to see it happen right before my eyes! You remind me of... of a witch, or a fairy godmother!
verflair: (076)

[personal profile] verflair 2018-04-16 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
You have the right of it, my friend. I will not lie and tell you I'm not angry. It is... difficult to look upon this scene and not feel some echoes of the rage I felt that day, but neither is this one of my dreams, where I am forced to relive the moment in the moment. I watch this tragedy knowing what is to come.

[ He casts his gaze up, up, up to the looming visage of the God of Destruction. Probably a strange patron for a nation to take, but it has always been somewhat fitting for his home, he thinks. ]

I know I leave this place, and I meet Alisaie. I meet Arya and the Warrior of Light, and at long last, I meet Lambard again. Justice is served, and in my absence, my pupils achieve what I cannot and bring freedom to my homeland. There is hope, here, and that is what I choose to look upon.
torchwoodteaboy: (worried)

[personal profile] torchwoodteaboy 2018-04-16 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
Ianto slips and slides around on the sand beside the other man as they walk, cursing softly as he does. It's probably for the best that John is keeping the conversation going, Ianto wouldn't even know where to begin.

Of course, he could be regretting that as John pulls out the sheep jokes. He shoots the other man a quelling look, but allows him to carry on without comment. For the most part this whole lead-in is sounding oddly familiar, all things considered. Classified. Part of a team. Except for the expedition part. He means to ask the other man just what sort of an expedition he means but then his shoes click on the ground below them and the rain starts again.

"...brilliant," he says, as he finds himself almost immediately soaked through again, gripping the edge of the balcony to stare out at the ocean before them. Knuckles white as he turns to the other man, blue eyes wide with alarm as he questions, "You wouldn't happen to know where we are now, would you?"
thunderblight: (☀ 13)

[personal profile] thunderblight 2018-04-16 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
She isn't taking offense, no worries. Axel clearly has something going on that she isn't privy to, but it isn't really her business either - Urbosa will simply have to be more forthright about when she uses her abilities to spare his poor frayed nerves.

"Likewise." She accepts the handshake, inclining her head politely as she does.

"Sav'saaba." Urbosa corrects him (frankly his accent is almost endearing), enunciating more slowly than she would otherwise for Axel's benefit. The clear curiosity in his tone makes her smile widen a little. "It means 'good evening' in the Gerudo language, although you'd have different greeting phrases depending on the time of day."