Entry tags:
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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. 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. 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.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.
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. |
Cain | Granblue Fantasy
[ A blink, and you find yourself standing elsewhere, Cain beside you. He's uncharacteristically grim as you watch the scene playing out before you — a memory, from Cain's past. For once, the smile's vanished from his face; he watches with his hands clenched into fists at his side. ]
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iv, what if it didn't take me 205892308424 to tag into anything
It feels wrong to peer into such a deeply private memory and Frederick wishes for nothing more than to escape unseen, but Cain - the real Cain, made of flesh and blood - turns just as he's about to leave. Would it be ruder to leave without a word, or stay and pry even deeper?
Frederick hesitates a moment, then stands his ground to ask: ]
Do you still speak to him here?
[ His brother, that is. ]
what if it didn't take me 205892308424 to reply
But Cain knows that'll just make things worse. It'll just make it even more apparent how deeply personal that scene was. Just how much of Cain has been put on display, all the parts of himself he keeps deeply buried and locked away stripped bare and revealed.
He sighs, a soft sound that gets carried off by the wind just the flower petals had been. Ruefully, he answers: ]
Considering this island's been swallowed up by the Storm, that's a little hard... [ Not an answer at all, he knows, and before Frederic can press him, he adds: ] I did, though. That memory wasn't very old.
same tbh
I'm sorry. [ For intruding, for Cain's loss. For a whole host of things he isn't sure how to vocalize yet. ] How did he pass?
[ Perhaps that question, too, is too personal, too much to ask straightaway from Cain, whom he only knows so well. But that's the drive that pushes him to ask, to speak instead of hold back. He'll never truly understand Cain if he doesn't ask. ]
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[ And that's hard to admit, too. It's an old wound, but it still stings, an injury that's never quite healed over. A wound that re-opens from time to time, memory only salt to sting it anew.
But Cain answers anyway. Standing here, on a world that no longer exists, facing the ghosts of his past, it feels too precarious not to. Like he really will never be able to take a step away from this place if he doesn't. He really will be stuck here forever, swallowed up by this ghost of a world, trapped in the Storm's memory when it fades, Cain vanishing along with it. ]
Our kingdom was destroyed. A sudden attack, a ray of light from the sky that wiped everything out in an instant. My brother was in the capital at the time, where it was hit the hardest. I can only assume he perished in the initial blast.
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It reminds him a little of the Risen threat of all those years ago, sudden figures dropping from the sky and spreading across Ylisse like poisonous ash. They'd figured out the cause eventually but Cain...
Frederick stirs, restless. ]
I'm sorry. Did you ever figure out from where the light came? What caused it?
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No. We call it the Divine Retribution... Straight from the heavens. Everyone said it was to cleanse us of the royal family's corruption, that the kingdom was so rotten that the gods themselves sent it to punish us.
[ His hands clench; he forces himself to relax them. He'd been happy, his brother had been happy, working closely with the royal family. His brother had been the best person Cain has ever known. Just how much corruption had there really been in Torhid, for his brother, good, kind, noble, to see none of it?
Had his brother known, and protected him from it all those years? ]
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ii + iv
They were eviscerated with the rest, murdered either by iron war machines in the sky or the soldiers that ran amok, their visages strange and horrifying creatures no one had ever seen.
There are no monsters roaming these streets. Shattered stone and collapsed homes, still smoldering, paint a different image of desolation.
Takasugi watches, fixated and silent, as a young boy runs desperately to a house in shambles, and tears into it. His desperate screams echo in Takasugi's ears - leave them aching. He's gone. The boy sheds tears and blood for the tragedy, and what Takasugi sees isn't surrender. It's fury that leaves it bearer incapacitated.
Unable to move.
Until, at some point, the tears run out.
The scene shifts, scent of smog replaced with the sweet smelling spring breeze. It whips around them, rustling Takasugi's hair and obscuring his view of the grave and the man paying respects.
It's nothing he hasn't seen before.
A small grave, not enough to feel at rest. An ostentatious marker, an expensive plot of land, won't quell any more grief than the humble sight.
A mass grave, however-
I just can't seem to move forward from here.
He's the same. He hasn't taken one step away from the day he'd lost everything.
Takasugi finally acknowledges Cain's presence, though he doesn't lift his stare from the man at the grave.] Don't you want revenge? [Nothing coy, no smile on his face. There's a softness to his voice, not gentle, but raw.]
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Don't you want revenge?
It's the worst sort of irony that Takasugi is standing there, asking him that. A terrible double meaning. Cain wonders if Takasugi intends it — does he want revenge on the ones who destroyed Torhid, who took his peaceful, happy life from him? Who killed his brother?
Does he want revenge on Takasugi who betrayed him, who helped the men who kidnapped him, who tortured Percival right in front of him?
For once, Cain finds he does.
But not with a sword. He won't give Takasugi that satisfaction, at least not yet — he pulls his hand from the hilt, his mouth set in a grim line — he won't give Takasugi the satisfaction of an answer to that question, either, at least not to the question Cain thinks Takasugi really wants answered.
He turns and swings, putting his weight and momentum into the punch, aimed right at Takasugi's face. And this time, if Takasugi tries to knife him for it, he won't hesitate to defend himself; he'll be quick to draw his sword if need be. ]
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He remembers plunging a knife through tense flesh, piercing lip and cheek.
Those two had known each other - comrades still alive to share each other's pain.
His head twists forward, and he brings his hand up to his bloodied lip. It throbs, and he tastes blood. Lets it flow and drip from his jaw onto the ground between them.
Aiming at him hadn't been what Takasugi meant - or expected. But the flash of anger, however dulled, is a beacon that the common ground he'd been searching for is there.
Far off, obscured by Cain's obsession with avoiding the pain he'd suffered. Not tormenting others with it, and...
Refusing to accept how much he's still suffering.]
Aah-
Is that enough?
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And maybe then it'd be enough. Maybe with Takasugi's blood on his hands, like Percival's blood had been on Takasugi's, like Percival's blood had been on Cain's—
Maybe then it'll be enough.
No.
He swallows the sick, bloody lump, swallows the rage, the red creeping over his vision. No. He's not going to give Takasugi what he wants. He grits out: ]
Revenge isn't going to solve anything.
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This rage - the taste of blood that isn't enough no matter how much he draws - is as familiar to him as the sunrise.]
It won't- [No corpses revived, and no greater purpose to put their deaths towards.
But in the very least, it makes breathing easier. Just for a moment.] But neither will playing defender of life.
You'll just loose it all again. [Maybe there's strength in being able to drag oneself out of the crag of despair and protect again.
But Takasugi despises those people.
He can't do it - and he doesn't understand how anyone could. Especially not someone who, for what he knows, should suffer in grief as intimately as he does.]
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cw suicide mention
ii - late with sbux
[ Mikazuki stands next to Cain as the scene unfolds, too steady to be somber. He feels the liveliness of it sticking in the well of his chest where so few things ever surface — the smell of char and dust, the way destruction changes the pressure in the air, the very gravity of their surroundings.
He asks as a sort of lead into something less cursory, watching blood streak hands too small with a stoic sort of familiarity. There's something pressing into his expression that isn't entirely readable.
Something less detached in its patience. ]
Or did you already know?
mmm sbux
I knew. But I went anyway, hoping that my brother had skipped out on his round of guard duty that day. He'd been having meetings with the higher ups, all very mysterious, I thought maybe his schedule would have been changed...
[ Cain draws in a deep breath. The rancid air hurts in his lungs. Even the very air of Starke island carries a toxic tinge, a trace of destruction. ]
But I knew it was just lies I was telling myself.
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[ Acceptance is no easy thing to swallow either, but Mikazuki thinks the smile that permeates the space around Cain is more destructive than the air clawing down the back of his throat. It's merciless and reeks of death, but he prefers the reality of it. It's not his first time looking at an aftermath — not for either of them.
But for as much as acceptance has been turned over in him, left to push out the ability to grieve and ignite the willingness to fight and kill in defense of it, he knows better. ]
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[ He says it softly. Unlike the boy they're watching, Cain has the passage of time to soften the blow of his brother's loss. Not that it's been softened very much, still a sharp pain in his chest even now, but... at least he can think about it without that sharp spike of panic coming over his mind, the frantic desperation that had sent him fleeing to their house even knowing that his brother wouldn't be there.
Acceptance isn't easy, but it's something Cain's learned. He's had to, when it's been shoved in his face all these years. In this one thing only, there's no point in holding out hope. ]
But my brother was all I had. Our parents died when I was young, I barely remember them. I didn't want to accept that I'd lost my family.
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He keeps his family close to his chest, knowing he hadn't done enough to keep the majority alive. ]
Anyone would feel that way.
[ At his back, he feels a rippling in the surroundings, but doesn't turn to look. Something about the streets cleaved apart and the rubble left behind compels him to keep looking forward, as if there's anything to see beyond the havoc. ]
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iii + iv
Lost.
Or perhaps empty would be a better word.
It's within another blink that the scene shifts, but even as she's welcomed with the warm colors of the sky and the gentle wind her heart continues to sink inside her chest. Leanne has to mentally remind herself not to cry despite everything, her emotions so easily swayed when a truth she never would have imagined reveals itself to her.
But it's that last part that causes something to flare within her. ]
Cain. [ Her voice shakes, evidently overwhelmed, but still remaining firm. ] Do you still feel that way?
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Worry that he never wanted to put there. That's the last thing he wanted, to cause anyone concern.
He dredges up a smile, a little overly bright, trying to banish that worry even with that cliffside grave and the other him standing right behind him. ]
Ah... Well, that was in another world, wasn't it? El Nysa's a new beginning for all of us.
[ Which isn't an answer. But he doesn't want to lie to her.
He doesn't want to tell Leanne that the man she's seeing standing in front of that grave is only weeks away from the man who lost his world to the Storm. ]
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That doesn't answer my question. [ Her tone isn't angry, but it's certainly more firm than it was previous. ] You... I— [ She chews on her bottom lip. ] I had a similar thought back home, after I had lost everything I knew. I had to start all over like what we've had to do here, and still... I still believe that I'm a person who's beyond salvation.
[ She's still scared. Every step she takes leaves her uneasy because there's still so many questions left unanswered of how she was still able to survive back in her own world.
But at least she's alive. Isn't that a good thing? ]
And I don't want to feel that way anymore. If you've moved on, I'm glad, but if you haven't...
I'm sure Abel would want you to take that first step forward.
III
he does watch with his head held high, however. he has every intention of seeing this through. of hearing out his honest feelings.
the expression on cain's face is uncharacteristically hollow. there is something terribly broken in those eyes, and for a moment, reinhardtzar's gaze flickers away — he intends on seeing this through, but such a deep breach of privacy is a little much, even for him.
it returns, however. he fixates on that broken expression before speaking: ]
She needs you.
[ a beat. ]
But you need to let yourself grieve, too. Regardless of what it takes.
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He remembers all too well his own feelings. How he'd shoved down his grief, how he'd held it together, because Leona needed him to. How he'd known that Leona wasn't seeing him — not really, hadn't since then, not since Torhid's fall. That every time she looked at him, she saw his brother instead, and the loss of everything she'd loved.
And Cain remembers making the decision that he'd let her look at him and see that. That if she needed to see Abel instead of Cain... then he'd bear that, for her sake.
He grits his teeth for a moment. Reinhardtzar's the last person he wants seeing this, because Reinhardtzar of all people is perceptive enough to look at it and understand all too well what it means. ]
Don't worry. [ He keeps his voice level; it's not hard, he's had practice, more even than Reinhardtzar knows, with all the reminders of his brother that El Nysa's thrown at him lately. ] Just because you don't see me losing it here doesn't mean I didn't cry my eyes out over him earlier.
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with a sigh, he slaps a hand down onto cain's shoulder. it's firm. ]
When you shoulder that burden by your lonesome, it becomes more of a weight than anything.
[ his own shoulders lower. ]
It's been heavy for awhile — hasn't it, Cain.
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It's so, so annoying.
Cain needs it. Needs someone who can do exactly this to him.
He sighs, but he doesn't shrug Reinhardtzar off. His shoulders relax just a little under the weight of Reinhardtzar's hand. ]
...it's no heavier than anything anyone else has to carry.
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cain was one of the first to truly shake him, pull the rug right out from under his feet. but now, he is hardy — because of and for him. ]
It all adds up. That load is plentiful — and it starts to be a bit much after awhile.
It always does.
[ silently, unwaveringly, he meets his gaze. ]
When was the last time you felt free?
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