❪ event ❫ hour of ruin

[natha]

HOUR OF RUIN     Sometime after midnight, after preparations have been put aside in favor of drinks and rest, a thunderous beating of wings shatters the air — the High Dragon Ysverai, once again risen. The sound echoes high off Namarak Mountain, but travels easily to both Wyver and Olympia: scream after scream rends the still night, as though a creature were dying rather than being born again. Having only had days to plan their defense against the creature, Olympia and Wyver snatch up their arms. The Royal Guard and the Knightryders can be seen on their steeds hurrying through the cities, because Ysverai doesn't remain isolated at the mountain's peak for long. There are pictures of Ysverai in abundance throughout both cities, but the creature that circles in the sky looks nothing like the majestic creature spoken of in history books. Even from far below, wounds and lacerations can be seen marring what should be smooth scales, and blood falls with every beat of the dragon's wings. The damage becomes more clear when moonlight illuminates Ysverai, revealing the rotting dragon for all to see. The sight of flesh peeling away and thick blood where it oozes from his cracked, greyish hide is as frightening as the power he possesses. REASON'S TRANSCENDENCE     Mad from the anguish of his forced revival, Ysverai will show none of his renowned wisdom or compassion, mindless and seeking to inflict his pain onto whatever emerges in his path. His very presence creates chaos: animals (Olympia | Wyver) domesticated and wild, flee from the merest hint of his approach, panicked and stampeding in wild droves. The reason is obvious: organic matter exposed too long to his presence begins to rot and decay. A field he lands in rots and lies fallow. Buildings crack and crumble, their supports pitted and corroded as though they've been left in disrepair for years. Even the ground that Ysverai walks upon is tainted; a corrosive sludge bubbles up in his massive, clawed footsteps, the ground beneath him putrefied and toxic, oozing corruption. This sludge can be tar-like, poisonous and sucking people in like quicksand; panic, and you'll only sink faster. Prolonged exposure to Ysverai takes a mental toll on anyone in his proximity as well. Effects similar to those from being near his heart — selfish desires and lowered inhibitions — will begin to fester in those around him. Every time Ysverai roars, pain will run through all those that hear him — a pain not just physical, but of true, anguished heartbreak. Those who hear Ysverai will feel (to a degree of your choosing) a sharing of his pain, the agony of flesh rotting from their bodies, blood oozing from under their skin, and a terrible, incandescent fury — and beneath that, a gut-wrenching sadness. This effect is further enhanced by any exposure to Ysverai's blood, and being drenched in greater quantities will cause one to become more in sync with the dragon. Finally, Ysverai is aggressive, attacking anyone and anything that approaches. He starts by breathing out a smog, acidic and putrefying — characters caught directly by this attack will find that medicine and healing magic of any kind hurts them for hours after exposure. The dragon will ignite the smog to breathe fire, if sparingly. IN WYVER     Ysverai's shadow falls over the near reaches of Wyver first. Upon hearing Ysverai's cry, the dragons in Wyver become completely frenzied, turning against their partners among the Knightryders without the slightest resistance. Those familiar with dragons might deduce that they're in pain, though they don't show any sign of injury. The dragons knock their riders off their backs in midair and dive at citizens, jaws wide. Any attempts to soothe them will be long fought, achieved with great difficulty, and will see them retreat into a cowering state. It's not just the airborne Knightryders taking to the defense of the city however, and people on the ground are mobilizing as well. On rooftops across the city are cannons set to fire harpoons. And if the spearheads alone aren't enough to injure the beast, they're coated with a paralyzing poison as well. Unfortunately, the soldiers stationed on the rooftops are prime targets to the frenzied dragons populating Wyver's skies, leaving the cannons open for ordinary citizens to use should they choose. Left alone too long, and cannons may fall under the control of the few remaining radicals that had opted not to flee the cities to join up with their leader Raysc, choosing instead to wait for an opportune moment to unleash their anger on the people of Wyver. These radicals will need to be dealt with before they can turn the cannons upon Wyver's defenders. IN OLYMPIA     In Olympia, the gryphon partners of the Royal Guard react with immediate hostility to anyone showing signs of Ysverai's influence. Their keen senses allow them to pick up the smell of Ysverai's blood and they attack anyone with so much as a drop of tainted blood on them. Those who bear lingering effects of Ysverai's mental attack and who remain in sync with the dragon after hearing Ysverai's cry are also targeted and must face the gryphons' wrath without mercy or restraint. The gryphons must be disabled, for Olympia will not look upon any injury to their prized steeds lightly. However, the gryphons also show some resistance to Ysverai's cry, which is a great boon in battle against the dragon — gryphons that have lost their riders will be available for use, able to carry two passengers at a time. The people of Olympia aren't planning to restrict their offense to pure brute force, and the mages of the city can be seen across Olympia wielding enchanted chains, using telekinesis in the hopes of restraining Ysverai and assisting in the airborne troops. But like the decaying buildings and wildlife, Ysverai is warping the magic around him, the chains faltering as they approach him, whipping back toward the city instead to cage whoever happens to be closest. It's not just the enchanted chains either, but other magic might behave erratically in his presence, as if the very essence of the spells have been corrupted. VIRTUOUS VERSE     Both cities realize they need to seek survival rather than victory against Ysverai, switching gears to carry out diversion efforts and evacuation plans. It falls to refugees to continue the offensive while the Royal Guard and the Knightryders devote their attention to ensuring the safety of the citizens as they flee. With official forces stretched thin, civilians and refugees alike will also need to step up to help herd citizens toward safety among a maze of collapsing buildings. Others will need to see to gathering resources for the evacuation, and while gathering non perishables is easy enough, it's considerably harder to wrangle livestock into cooperating amidst such chaos. Those fighting may be asked to act as bait for Ysverai. Chatter through official troops speaks of a switch in strategy: the objective now is capture the dragon's attention and draw him away from the populous cities and towards the South Outpost. Whether or not it's possible to defeat the dragon remains uncertain, but there's no question that it will be easier to battle him without worrying about civilians. THE RAGE     Luckily, the dragon is indiscriminate in his rage, and easily lured so long as a suitably infuriating target is before him. It doesn't take long to draw him to the South Outpost, but the trail of destruction he leaves in his wake is vast. Once there, the combined forces are greeted not just by Ysverai, but also by the appearance of Ysverai's master. How bravely you've all come to meet your doom! Great heroes, one and all, ha! I welcome you, bring your best. Show me the power that's protected Olympia and Wyver, all that you have to offer me, whatever pitiful excuse for valor you seek to cling to when the fear has you cowering in your beds. All will be for naught in the face of Ysverai's might! Let history witness the day the glory of war is reignited — the day that Wyver remembers its fangs once more! Come, Ysverai, last and greatest of the High Dragons! Come, and restore Wyver to its rightful place! Come, fulfill the promise as our protector that you could not in life! Raysc lifts a gleaming device as he issues his command. Red lights blink and blood, the same oozing liquid that drips from Ysverai's many wounds, runs in clear tubes through the device. Ysverai rears back as Raysc makes adjustments to a control panel — and then lunges forward, mouth agape. With a single swallow, Raysc meets his end. Raysc's attempt to control the dragon has only enraged him further, spurring Ysverai on to new heights of fury. It's become more vital than ever to face the dragon and take him down here and now. A few effective strategies are learned from research efforts and observed while defending Olympia and Wyver: goading the dragon into breathing fire will hurt him, burning him from the inside out, and attacks to his joints, eyes, wings, and exposed bone are effective. Ice is a natural repellent to dragons and can be used defensively or to weaken the dragon's hide. Healing spells will also react unnaturally to Ysverai's flesh, hastening his decay. However, while concentrated efforts will lock him down, Ysverai cannot be permanently killed in this state — his flesh constantly rots and spawns anew. Attacking him here is to protect civilians, keeping him busy to avoid mass destruction elsewhere. Therefore, the battle is one of attrition, a matter of a race against time. You must destroy his flesh faster than it is able to regenerate to have any hope of victory. Finally, when Ysverai is weakening, little more than bones with a few last vestiges of rotten meat hanging from a skeleton, the pathetic remnants of the last High Dragon takes to the skies. His wings are barely intact enough to carry him, yet desperation lifts him, higher and higher, until he lets out one great, earth-shaking roar. A roar that carries across the battlefield, sending all who hear it to their knees. A roar that shatters the swords in soldiers' hands, that rends apart the very air itself — Ysverai's last act, a great curse upon El Nysa, to bring down the sky. AND THE WORLD STOOD STILL     The terror of Ysverai's destruction hangs overhead — a tear in the sky, darkness pouring through, tendrils reaching down towards El Nysa to swallow up the planet in the dragon's final act of revenge. And yet nothing moves. A halo of brilliant light surrounds the rift in the sky, holding the grasping, hungry tendrils in check. And on the planet, not a creature moves. Not a blade of grass stirs. You're not able to even draw a breath. No matter where you are, not even the heart in your chest is beating. Everything has stopped — time has come to a standstill. In a wash of light, an aurora of transport, you find yourself delivered to Thesa Station. Darma stands before you, her expression solemn, perhaps even grim, though that may just be a trick of the station's harsh lighting. She explains what has happened in short order: planetside, time has been completely frozen. We have seen the birth and end of worlds. The rise and fall of civilizations infinite times over. We have seen all threads of possibilities that could have lead to this very moment... Or should have. Perhaps you might doubt our sincerity when we say this comes as a surprise to us, as well... Special technology has been used to blind us. To this day, we only know of one region capable of creating and utilizing such technology... you will find this technology in a city known as Nadril. We understand that you have created a life down in Wyver and Olympia, but now we must ask that you put that life on pause. We ask you to travel to Nadril and find the original Refugee, and with him, answers. As you will discover, he does not wish to speak to us. It is no matter. By now it is too late to keep the Nysan public unaware of our existence. We commend the efforts of those who wish to protect their comrades on the battlefield below, but a creature like poor Ysverai, twisted and warped, given unnatural life with terrible magic and technology, does not simply go down with manpower. Please, leave Ysverai to us. Time on the planet will remain stopped while we determine how to deal with the dragon. For now, rest and recover your strength. We have returned, and soon, there will be new refugees awakening. Perhaps you might like to prepare yourselves to greet them? I'm sorry that I can't answer more questions, but for now, all our attention must turn to finding a way to stop what Ysverai has wrought. A bank of monitors behind Darma displays the battlefield below: Ysverai's frozen, looming figure and the breach in the sky, and the Natha's halo, holding the destruction back. Though time passes normally on Thesa Station, El Nysa remains frozen, and all Refugees are unable to return to the planet until Ysverai's menace is dealt with. Luckily, with the Natha's return, full functionality has also returned to the station. The lights and environmentals are back to full power, access to all areas has been restored, the cafeteria is serving its normal offerings, and there's no evidence of any glitching or malfunctions. Doubtless, the period of rest is much needed after the hard-fought battle. For now, with time on El Nysa at a standstill, there's little else to be done but enjoy the reprieve aboard Thesa Station. FINAL OOC NOTE     Characters that reach an AC length action thread in this event will receive 2 rep for all factions, including Natha. Note that while these are split up for ease of processing, players may submit for all three. OLYMPIA | WYVER | NATHA Players can expect this event to run three days ICly before everyone is teleported to Thesa Station! From thereon, all characters will be grounded at the Station until the Test Drive Meme later this month. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[icingonthecake]

"Okay, a sedative is a good start," he says with a nod. "I dunno if the natives'll get pissed if we kill all their dragons, so... maybe just putting them to sleep is a better option for the time being." More than that, Axel likes animals, even potentially dangerous ones; he would never really want to kill an animal if it could be avoided, he'd just rather not get eaten by any.

He holds his hands out, asking silently to look at the vials, and compares the labels, frowning a little. Sedative, sedative, poison...

"Well, at the end of the day, do you really need a good reason to shoot something with a--ah! Hey, look this one's a serenic agent," he says, holding up a vial with a blue and green striped label. "That's an anti-aggressive sort of drug." Hey, Vexen had been good for all of one thing, and that was learning about scary chemicals and what they could potentially do to you. Axel had picked up very quickly on the terminology the older man had used, and knew what words should trigger a flight response, and what was probably not going to explode or kill anyone in a six-foot radius.

He looks through a couple more.

"Ooh, orexigenic, yeah, let's not use that one," he says, tossing it over his shoulder. The last thing they need are hangry dragons.

[sullenstallion]

[No, no, no, NO—

He growls, baring his teeth like a dragon might. That fake, dead dragon that isn't Ventuswill. Lightning surges through his body again in frustration, and it takes considerable effort for him to keep it in. But it's there. The area around him smells like the air just before it rains, and the electricity surges over his arms and chest.]

Not that!

[He spreads his legs, getting ready to charge again...but he stops, lowering his head. He can barely think. And that's alarming in and of itself, so he tries not to charge, but it'd feel so easy to just give in. His tail kicks up dust behind him, moving forcefully and erratically.]

Get it off of me!

[He needs to clear his head. He bites his lip, hard, focusing on the pain that brings and closing his eyes, ignoring the trickle of human(ish) blood that trickles down his chin and drips onto his shirt and theground.]

[devilcalling]

[ It's the sound of still sifting, swirling dust that rises in answer despite that Ryoko hears him over the din around them and her still throbbing temples from the impact. Her eyes snap open and she coughs, lifting a hand to wipe the very blood from the corner of her mouth. It tastes like so much rust as she swallows and reaches through the pain, the rage to grasp the rotten Earth and draw herself out of small pit in which her body had come to rest within the crater.

As he calls her name for the second time, she rises from the earth, neck cracked to one side as she flexes her wrist and commands so many balls of energy to appear around her. Her teeth are bared in that instant, the pain from the rot taking to her skin feeding into the grief, the anger she shares with that tortured creature in the distance. She answers in lashing out with that energy, a wide beam fired where she hears the dust part rapidly in approach, and not in warning. No, she means to kill and that strangled yell that escapes her speaks to that intent. ]

[constellationy]

[ Okay, okay, she looks closer. She doesn't have any idea what he means but his clear agony is causing her to react more than she usually would. He's her ... friend. And she feels something inside of her that she hasn't felt in a long time.

The only other abnormal thing about him is ... the blood on his head.

So, wordlessly, as per her usual, her body practically moves on her own before she has a chance to think about it, rushing over to wipe the blood from his face with her good arm's sleeve.

She's not even concerning herself with how dangerous he is right now — it's really like she's not even thinking about her actions. ]

[devilcalling]

That's the first I've heard about it. You some kind of expert about that?

[ She slides her eyes in the direction he inclines his head and turns, motioning after a second for him to join her. First order of the business is the cafeteria. Really, they're going to need a lot more booze. ]

Can't say you'd be wrong about the Natha, though. It's the least they can do.

[ After this whole fiasco? Especially given this whole bizarro time-out deal, it should go without saying. ]

[sullenstallion]

[He flinches as she gets close. There's an urge to shove her away that swells up from nowhere. He's alone, despairing, in pain, like Ysverai. He doesn't need this. He doesn't need her.

But Dylas lowers his head once the blood is finally wiped from his face. His breathing continues to be uneven and pained, almost like he's gasping for air with each second that passes. He forces himself to his knees. The blood isn't on his face anymore.

In that moment, the magic surging through him fades...mostly. He refocuses it as his hands and breaks the chains off himself, the links falling around him, weakened from the electric blast and the strength of his fists.

When he looks up at Cinnamon, he grabs her arm with considerable strength and pulls her to the ground with him. Immediately, he grabs the fabric of her sleeve and pulls and pulls and pulls until it's torn off, digging his fingers into any holes that open up in the stitching, watching the blood to make sure it never gets on his hands. It takes a few seconds, but he tosses it away if Cinnamon lets him be successful.]

[constellationy]

[ She's shocked to be pulled to the ground like that, and shocked even more at him ripping up her sleeve. But she's normally the passive sort, so she ... allows it. Just watching on in confusion. It's not that much of an issue to her if her sleeve is ripped, at least.

Was that the problem, then? The blood? Something about it angering him? Whatever it was, he's not attacking her anymore. And he's being strangely careful of it. He broke the chains so easily just now, even, so they at least couldn't have been the problem ... she guesses?

Regardless, she decides to ask, after a few moments: ]

... Are you Dylas again?

[icingonthecake]

As cool as mobile suits sound, Axel wouldn't know the first thing about driving one. Piloting one? Flying one? Operating one. Whatever the word is, he wouldn't have a clue how to do it. Axel's clever, but his usual contingency plans involve how he's going to escape danger, not how to help others get away from danger, so this is a bit out of his wheelhouse. He knows they won't be able to bring Ysverai down themselves, so if they're going to help these people get away from the dragon's wrath, they're going to have to do something to distract it long enough to usher them to safety, or at least out of sight. The dragon seems to be in something of a frenzy, so if there are no targets visible, it might break off and go look for prey elsewhere...

He looks up when she speaks then, following the line of her finger to the building a few hundred yards away at the edge of the outpost. It's either been impacted by Ysverai himself, or it was rotting away from sheer proximity, because it looks like a good stiff wind could have knocked it down.

He looks at Allura sidelong and gives a nod.

"Yeah, I think so," he says. "Gimme five minutes."

With that, he sweeps a hand through the air and opens up a portal, the gaping, twisting maw of black and indigo energy whorling into existence like a shadow forming on a wall. He looks at it briefly and then looks at Allura again.

"This'll get me there and back faster," he says, pointing at it, "but don't touch it, okay?" His eyes are bright and fierce--this isn't just a passing request. "I'll explain later, but if you see a portal open up and I don't come out of it like immediately or something, don't step into it to look for me, got it memorized?"

He doesn't have time to explain that whatever the Orbiters' definition of Darkness is, he's got his own experiences with it, and while he knows Allura's a good person, it takes more than a wholesome conscience and a desire to do good to save a heart from the Darkness within those Corridors. Maybe she'd be just fine, but he's not going to take that risk, especially not with so much pain and anger and cloying emptiness ringing through the air.

Stepping into the Corridor, he opens an exit, then opens another--he figured out pretty quickly that his ability to use these Corridors was cinched a bit, upon his arrival, and he's not certain if the Orbiters did something to him, or if it's the effects of the storm that have cut him off from these aspects of his magic and capabilities, but whatever it is, he's resourceful, and he's learning to adapt. It just means a few extra portal jumps, that's all; still faster than walking.

Half a dozen Corridors later and he's at the foot of the building. It's a tower of some sort, maybe a lookout, from the positioning and height, but he sure wouldn't want to climb up there for a lookaround now. The foundation is rotting away beneath the stone, and the wooden support beams are creaking with the tilted weight. Well, this shouldn't be too hard, then.

With a swirl of his hands, Axel summons a globe of flames, watching it spin brightly before him, glowing hot and bright. Once it's big enough, he shifts his arms and snaps his hands open, sending the flames crashing into the base of the tower. The wooden door burns away almost instantaneously, and once he's sure the flames have caught the beams inside, he takes a small step backward.

"Timberrrr," he says quietly, a hand cupped by his mouth, before backpedaling into a Corridor to get the hell out of there before the whole thing topples. He hopes Allura doesn't expect him to control which way the thing falls, because without Aero, he's not sure he'd have much luck in that department. For now, he guesses he'll just have to hope it's all right to let the buildings fall where they may.

[devilcalling]

[ No. Carry her.

Just kidding. Don't do that, not that she'd be an easy target for anyone willing to take up such an endeavor. That toeing earns a clear note of displeasure voiced as not quite a grunt, but not quite a whine accompanied by some rather stubborn scooching in the opposite direction, pushing a few of those already spent bottles into a roll or spin. Her face is still tucked in her arms if a little more tightly now.]

No. [ And that isn't a sniffle or a crack in her voice. ] What's it matter to you, anyway? 'M fine here.

[impavid]

Is he...?

The question could end a hundred ways, but the most likely is are you okay?

John figures it's pretty obvious he's not. He doesn't feel like lying, either.

"Well, I look like a Dalmatian, I'm tired, I apparently failed to kill a dragon and most of me is sore but I seem to not be missing any fingers or toes."

So it's not... strictly all bad. He flicks a weak attempt at a smile, to try and ease the tense waves of concern coming from Ianto.

[icingonthecake]

The dust is too thick, he still can't see. He can hear Ysverai still circling overhead, can feel the beat of the beast's great wings as it waits like a vulture for the cloud to clear, and Axel is suddenly a little grateful for the lack of visibility. If he can't see Ryoko, then neither can the dragon, so if she's unconscious or hurt, at least he might have a chance to get her out before the dragon barbecues the both of them.

As he slides down to the center of the crater, marveling for a moment at just how deep it is--jeez, she must have hit the earth at terminal velocity; has she broken every bone in her body? Light, he hopes not, he's a terrible nurse.

There's a flicker of golden light, and he squints a bit in the obscurity.

"Ryoko?" he calls. Is she signalling to him?

He lets out a yawp of alarm when the soft orange light sharpens into a beam of energy, and he has only an instant to twist out of the way of it as it rockets past him. Throwing himself to the ground with a grunt, he narrowly misses a very close haircut, and covers his head with both hands for a moment, as if to make sure his coif is still intact.

"R--Ryoko!?" he gasps. "Dude, it's me, watch where you're shooting your crazy laser beams, you'll put somebody's eye out!"

[thetaintedsorrow]

Yeah. It’s a long story.

[It’s oddly comforting to have Shell reach out and touch him first, and he squeezes his hand right back with a weary sigh.]

Yeah. You’re right.

[He gives Shell a tiny little smile.]

As far as I know I was stopped before I hurt anyone.

[icingonthecake]

"Yeah, well," he says with a cavalier shrug, "what can I say? I've got a natural flair for showmanship."

He can see she's tired in her posture. He's not sure how long she's been out here fighting, but he knows she's probably got more stamina than he does, all things considered. Axel prefers flight over fight when he can get away with it, and if he does have to engage, he'd rather just take out his opponent as quickly as possible; fire can only burn so long before it needs more fuel, after all. For Urbosa to not even have noticed his approach, he knows she's pushing her limits, but he knows better than to comment on it.

He stumbles dramatically sideways on purpose with her nudge, dismissing his weapons and then folding his arms over his chest.

"A walk?" he echoes, and his eyes wing skyward. "Well, I guess it is lovely weather..." He jogs to catch up with her then and glances up at her, a little concerned. "Where you headed?" he asks. "If you're the only one actually fighting, yeah, I'll go with ya, at least for a bit. I'm headed to Wyver, since I can't raise anyone on the communicator..." He frowns, shaking his head. "I dunno if I'll find anyone when I get there, but I feel like I gotta try."

[icingonthecake]

He gives a nod.

"That aura of yours is pretty cool, I gotta admit," he says with a bit of a smile. "Never seen anything quite like that before; glad you were able to make use of it to get out of there safe, though. Tired's better'n dead, right?"

When Ren buries his face in his arms, though, the smile on Axel's face fades quickly. He hadn't really been trying to make light of the situation; gallows humor is something of a defense mechanism for him, but he knows it's not always appreciated. At Ren's words, Axel exhales quietly, then moves a little closer to him, reaching over to put one hand on the younger man's shoulder, tentatively at first, in case the contact is unwanted and he pulls away.

"Is... that the name of your world?" he asks softly. He hates that there are others who have lost--or were in the process of losing--their worlds, even before the Storm came. Misery may love company, but Axel never wished to have this in common with the people he'd come to like the company of.

[icingonthecake]

He doesn't miss the way Keith's eyes flick to either side of him, and he gives a dry chuckle.

"Some of them are still patching themselves up," he explains, "and some of them are checking up on their other friends. I just came here 'cause... I dunno." He shrugs one shoulder. "I guess, I didn't have anybody in particular to hang out with, but I didn't really wanna be alone. Know what I mean?"

If he knew what Keith was thinking, he likely would have agreed: as much as he misses Roxas, Xion... Naminé, and even Demyx, to an extent, he's glad they weren't here to experience the horrors that took place planetside.

[hedonistic]

I dunno, maybe they don't bother when it's not like...mortal injuries.

[After all, when that kidnapping incident happened, they brought back the people who died -- but the ones that survived their torture were shit out of luck, weren't they?]

[devilcalling]

[ Ryoko spares the fallen building a glance as she continues to strain her ears against the din in listening to Shell. Even if he can't see her, he can hear her and she him and that's something. That's enough for her to grasp, to hold onto, and steel herself against the pheromone's effects and it's in this moment that she halts her own breathing to eschew any fumes. ]

I'm coming! Hold on!

[ She moves. No counting, no second guessing her course. She forges ahead in the face of that still clutching terror and reaches with both hands for that wretched piece of wall, to lift it. ]

I'm here, Shell!

[jesus_is_gundam]

You might not have that long.

[Because he might not last that long. He's low on power and has the full attention of the dragon; even the most generous calculations don't have him lasting long.]

Hurry!

[No sooner does he get that out than she'll hear a loud crash over the comms, the sound of his suit being smacked aside by the tail of a pissed off undead over-grown lizard. There's a loud thud as he lands not too far from her. One can only hope that the dragon has lost interest in them, but that might take a minor miracle.]

[veneries]

You've tried not to. [There's no hiding the angry suprise, the disappointment he'd feel if that was something he'd ever felt in his life. Ramsay studies Reek, walking closer to get a better look at him. He hasn't done this, not really studied him. He'd assumed that Reek would be Reek, just as he'd left him.

The fear is there, he notes when he gets close enough to see. What is missing? How the fuck was Reek sitting in the dungeons of the Dreadfort still thinking he was Theon Greyjoy?

If this other Ramsay - this man who begs Theon Greyjoy to allow him to flay two insignificant children, who broke Reek into an ugly husk without, it seems, actually flaying the Ironborn out of him - ever appears, Ramsay is going to take his knife to him.

Gods, what Ramsay wouldn't do for a proper dungeon somewhere in this place.]

But it's hard, isn't it? Remembering who you are. What you are.

[jesus_is_gundam]

[He can hear her singing. More importantly, he can feel her singing, which catches his attention more. He pushes the thrusters harder, leaping over a large hill and sliding down the back end, before speeding into a forest, where he stops for some brief cover. It won't last long, but hopefully he won't need long. But now that they have at least a moment of respite, he uncovers the tiny musician, raising up to the chest level of the suit.]

What are you doing?

Bait

[devilcalling]

[ And Ryoko blinks wide-eyed at Diamond, a little shell-shocked to say the least at the sudden change of page about her situation. She'd teleported near blindly into what she's only just realizing was likely an unfavorable position given the rocks hitting the ground where they were only a moment before and the next thing she knew -- well, knows, given that she's looking her evident rescuer in the face with a rapidly twisting expression, is that she's being bridal carried by a... familiar mineral person? ]

Diamond, what the hell!

[ With that expression especially??? ]

I'm fine! Put me down! I've got a dragon to bait! [ She may be squirming a bit. ]

[defenses]

[ sometimes in all that vane does, he overlooks the more minute details. kind of like how the armor he's just placed over rohan is definitely heavier than he's used to. he sees his posture bend, and immediately reaches his hand upwards, almost instinctively, just enough to catch rohan as he falls in his direction. ] My bad, my bad. I really should have given you some sorta heads up, huh?

But, uh— [ he steadies rohan before attempting to help him put his arms through the shirt. he reaches directly into the sleeves himself; doing his best to avoid contact with the wound. it's a bit easier if just because rohan is meeting him half-way. sort of.

it shouldn't be as funny as it is to see rohan squirm around in oversized amor, but cade care. if anything, the only thing that seems to keep his expression in check is the blood he can feel as he helps rohan ease into the amor.maybe he'll just take the shoulder piece. that was probably the heaviest part. he pries it off easily enough and sets it back in place over his own shoulder. ] How's that...? A little better? This way, you won't smell, at least. [ smell like blood, he means...

but vane's never been someone particularly careful with wording. ]

[terrantrash]

<sub>[Mikazuki's trail of thinking is easy enough to follow as Slaine's gaze follows the Martian's path toward the looming mobile suit. Despite himself Slaine can't help but move after him until he's side by side the other boy, looking up at Barbatos.

Compared to the mobile suits Vers used it's far more similar to what was available on Earth and even so...there's something primal about this machine, as if it's got a certain personality to it.]</sub>

...So this is Barbatos?

[sullenstallion]

[It's important to get that off her, too. He's not sure what would happen if she got any on her skin, or if soaked through...hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it burned through like acid.

It takes him a moment longer to really calm down. His tail curls behind him as if it would tuck between his legs, and his ears droop and stay that way. All the tension, anxiety, and anger leaves his body, but it leaves him feeling exhausted.]

...I don't think I ever stopped being Dylas.

[At least, that's how he sees himself.]

Are you...?

[He can't bring himself to ask.]

[underwhelms]

[ JJ's halfway to a panic attack when she pulls him in for a hug, body immediately going tense when his forehead presses against the cold, damp fabric of her dress. The smell of copper and blood is overwhelming, and he takes everything in him to keep from pushing her away so that he can just run. It's too bad that he doesn't think he would be able to outrun her if that were the case. And even though JJ knows that Diva wouldn't hurt him—or at least, she wouldn't want to. Whether or not she would be able to stop herself while in a frenzy is debatable. There are so many different creatures on El Nysa, and so many prickly characters that JJ hadn't particularly cared for the warnings about Diva being a vampire when at least she was sweet.

But now it feels less like friendship and more like the affection that someone might feel toward a pet: distantly fond, but willing to take them out back if they stepped out of line. ]

I can feel it.

[ Like everyone else around them. He's sure that at least some of the panic in the people across the cities is due to the way Ysverai makes them unable to think.

The dragon shrieks somewhere in the distance, and JJ can feel the fear pricking at his eyes. They can't stay here, or at least he can't, and so he pushes carefully at Diva, ready to ease away. ]

I need to go.