nysalogs | ❪ event ❫ hour of ruin

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❪ event ❫ hour of ruin

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.

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[ Which is fair, though JJ shows no inclination of actually leaving despite his complaints about Solomon's state of appearance and hygiene. Instead, he wanders further into the room and into the adjoining bathroom so that he can grab a towel from there and offer it to Solomon as if it might make up for emptying a bottle of water on his face. ]

I saw Diva... [ The memory comes with a wave of discomfort, like he'd rather not acknowledge that the memory is real. But Solomon is something like her guardian, and he seems like as good as anyone else to confess to JJ had essentially abandoned her back in Olympia. ] She went on a murdering spree. Is that why you're so tired?

[ Might as well just get down to it, since he's already being candid. ]

[He's sitting up, at least, when JJ returns. The semi-wet blankets pooled around his lap. It's as much as his current energy level will allow.]

..Thank you. [Quietly; he'll use the towel to dab at his face, little remnants of moisture here and there. He'll rustle it through his hair, even, just once, before leaving it at his shoulders in horseshoe form.]

Oh? [If he weren't also familiar with Diva's current ...former...if he hadn't also seen Diva, he may sound slightly more curious in response. He'd fought with her, they were both equally reprehensible throughout this entire affair.] Do you truly want to know?

[He'd been trying to keep his, uh, supernatural abilities under wrap for a while. Losing control was something he can't ever recall happening, not in the near nor distant past. It's a strange thing to own up to.]

I'm relieved to see that you're still in one piece.

[After seeing her. Not to deflect.]

[ It's difficult to remain critical of Solomon when he maintains such a pleasant persona, and JJ has always been fairly easy to trust. It's why he's still struggling to reconcile what he knows of Diva, having thought of her as nothing more than an eccentric little girl, with someone who could massacre people with barely any effort.

He wishes he could ignore it. ]

Thanks, you too. [ He can still be polite, even while accosting him for answers. ] And of course I want to know.

[ It makes sense that Solomon wouldn't want to answer—he seems sensible enough to know that being a murderous creature isn't something to advertise, especially to someone who had just escaped death at the hands of a murderous dragon.

And maybe that means he has more control in general, given his age and maturity. ]

[This is about as cumbersome as a kid prematurely wanting to know about the birds and the bees. He'll nod for that sentiment -- thoughtful of him, considering how little he deserves that regard. His fingers toy with his sheets, still wet from that primitive rousing.]

I'm afraid you won't like my answer.

[He'll try to leave it at that. It isn't as if he gored anybody specific...even frenzied, he did favor using animals to suit his destructive urges. Not that he can recall a whole lot from then.]

[ That's telling. JJ's not kind enough to imagine Solomon daintily turning his murderous urges toward unsuspecting farm animals, not when he'd viscerally seen Diva tear apart men as if they were made of paper. Instead he imagines the worst: a scene similar to the one he'd stumbled across in Olympia and his stomach rolls.

It's the kind of anxiety that accompanies being forced to make a decision that you don't want to make, and so he stalls. ]

Is that just how it is? [ Maybe he owes it to them to try to understand, now that the initial shock has worn off.

Though it's hard to make excuses for rampant murder. ]

Going into frenzies and killing people?

[JJ may or may not look slightly blanched all of a sudden. A sigh accompanies that conclusion.]

You're thinking the worst of me.

[Not that it's a huge stretch. It's just as bad, maybe even worse to some people?! Solomon isn't helping at all; if anything, his vagueness is helping to paint a more dire scene.]

I've not killed anyone. [Maimed? Attacked to a nonlethal degree? He had. Those details aren't so important. Human interference...it was a consensual thing.] You have no reason to fret.

[There's a motion for him to come sit, but he shant be forcing him to sit close if he'd...prefer not to do that.]

I wouldn't say I have no reason. [ Seriously tho. ] Diva killed plenty of people in Olympia.

[ Though "killed" would be putting it lightly. She pulled them apart and tore them to pieces like they were nothing but large hunks of meat, devoid of life and intelligence.

Thinking about it still makes him a little green, but he manages to keep steady.

He eyes the spot for a moment before sighing and sitting down, though his demeanour remains considerably more distant than usual. Normally he wouldn've draped himself over Solomon and started rambling about his childhood or something, so perhaps this is a refreshing change of pace. ]

Why would she do that? [ She's a vampire, Solomon's a vampire, but they're still... nice. They're quirky, but JJ likes them both enough to be struggling with the casual murder. ] Is that normal for you?

[Is it normal for his kind? Somewhat. Is he capable of mass destruction? Absolutely. Is JJ in any harm? Not currently.

Though that doesn't seem to be the point. He doesn't seem frightened of him, just preemptively disappointed. Once he's seated, if it's not so far of a stretch, he'll sit up a bit further, move to rest his hand over the back of his nearest.]

Diva is...different. She's... [Been under-socialized, has the brain of a semi-tame lioness.] she can be insatiable in her desires. She is a queen, you know.

[He says this while lowkey considering how difficult it would be to coerce JJ into letting him feed -- just a little. Now isn't the time, but he's hungry and JJ's near enough to be smelt. His eyes divert at the latter question.]

It isn't. Have I given you reason not to trust me?

[ "Different" is one way to describe her. They'd never gone into the details of her past, but JJ can guess well enough that Diva probably hadn't had a normal upbringing, from her conversation about having children to her disregard for life. It makes him a little sad for her, to know that she'd never gotten to experience a family. JJ had been apart from his for barely a year and the loneliness could become suffocating, so he can imagine that feeling alone for some two hundred odd years might make a person "different".

Solomon and her make an odd family of sorts, though they seem vastly different. JJ really ponders the question directed at him, squinting and observing Solomon with an expression that has to be comedic. ]

I guess not. You didn't slap me for dumping water on your face while you were sleeping.

[ Which he... supposes is somewhat a testament to Solomon's character, that he didn't yell or lash out of instinct.

He nudges their legs together, demeanour somewhat more friendly. ]

It's just been a lot today.

Hasn't it?

[That contact doesn't go unnoticed, but he'll overlook it for the time being. In truth, JJ definitely deserves some form of assault for waking him like that. Even during wartime, wakeup calls were much less severe. Gosh.]

Has Diva told you very much? We're similar in how we feed. [And feeding on JJ here and now would definitely restore some health, but he's relenting. Content to have company like a would-be normal ass person.] When we don't, we're prone to malaise. I'm sure you've read the stories.

[He'll motion him closer in spite of his words, he's free to decline....]

[ Solomon's current state of hygiene leaves much to be desired, but JJ is nothing if not a slut for attention so he'll scoot in closer until he's leaning against Solomon, his own fatigue starting to catch up with him. ]

She hasn't said much. She mentioned that vampires having healing properties... or their blood does. It's all stuff I've heard in books and movies.

[ It still sounds a little ridiculous to actually accept as fact, however. Suddenly talking about vampires and drinking blood like it's normal—it's like if he started believing that Santa is real again.

Heck, maybe he is. ]

Is that why you're like this? [ He points out, amused. ] Too tired to take a bath? Need me to help you?

[It's sort of embarrassing, using fantasy as a reference point, but helpful all the same. This would be more of a hassle if JJ were full of disbelief and rejection. They've pushed past the whole concept of him being a monster...he supposes...for the most part, at least. He'd be a fool to rest so close while harboring uncertainty.]

--Help me draw a bath? [He'd like not to show off more of himself like this. If possible.] Do I smell so foul?

[Asked in earnest; something that takes precedent over acknowledging his weakened body. Lesser of two evils.]

[ Yeah, man. Get it together. ]

It's out of character. [ He says, like he's an expert on Solomon's character, which he is not. ] Seeing you all ragtag like this instead of... You know, walking around in a suit, drinking a bottle of Merlot.

[ That said, JJ's not particularly inclined to actually help Solomon with a shower. He likes to nurture through words rather than actions. Plus, he's tired himself, sliding away from Solomon so that he fall against the bed. ]

But I get it. I'm tired too.

Unless I'm carrying alcohol, you're saying I'd be out of sorts?

[He is feeling starkly aware of his condition all at once, however. The remedy's practically in his lap, but he'll forego it. It's just the two of them for now.]

As long as you understand, that's the important part. [Excuse the fuck outta him while he scoots over to create some room, should JJ decide to nap here.] I won't make a habit out of it, now that I know it repulses you.

[ Oh yeah, sorry. Solomon must be exhausted but it's not like JJ cares as he straight up commandeers his bed.

And then he laughs at him, though he softens(?) it by extending a hand to gently pat Solomon's cheek. ]

That's not what I said. But wow, you're going to be that considerate for me? That's so sensitive of you!

[ But anyway - ]

What I meant was, you usually look like a posh gentleman, so it's weird seeing you all homeless looking.

[He'll sigh at that -- maybe he is being a lil sensitive. Stop calling him out when he's a shell of himself...he does eventually close his eyes at the touch. Like a dog.

And then his brows go tense at that comparison.]

Perhaps we should talk about something else. How did you fair exactly? I haven't seen you in some time.

[ Solomon is an odd creature. Polite, but also kind of rude. Very well kept and collected, and still somehow cute in an odd way.

He's not as eccentric as Diva, but JJ finds him difficult to understand all the same. ]

I told you.

[ Remember? The blood and carnage that still haunt JJ when he closes his eyes?

He doesn't remember much else of their escape, too stuck on the image of the massacred bodies and the feel of blood on his skin where Diva had put her hands on his face. ]

But I can't blame you for missing me! Were you worried we'd never see each other again?

Vaguely.

[But maybe that's all it was -- violence. Forcing him to ordeal an experience like that won't end very well. Delicate flower. He'll move onto his side, offering up more room and properly facing him now; win-win.]

Something like that. If you had perished, I would have had to set up the proper arrangements. [A beat.] It occurred to me that I don't know many of your friends.

[Or any of them actually. What a hilariously bad time and cumbersome way to bring this up....]

[ Sometimes, JJ's life is hard. For example, right now he's in the mood to cuddle, but Solomon's hygiene continues to leave much to be desired.

He sighs, but smiles anyway thanks to Solomon's sweet(?) comments. ]

You mean like a funeral? You're so considerate. [ unsures ] And you think you'd be the one arranging it? More like you'd have to fight a hoard of my friends for the honour.

[ Nothing weird about fantasizing about his funeral, but he seems to be in a good enough mood, patting Solomon's cheek consolingly. ]

But you're still special, don't worry.

[Don't...don't call him considerate...JJ.....]

Is there honor in something like that?

[Honor's for battles, coming up ahead in a shark tank. He'd not beat JJ's friends down for the headache of funeral arrangements. Gosh. Also, if he thinks cuddling with him's nasty, wait until Solomon slides himself a little closer at the cheektouch, thinking now's a good time to initiate a liplock.

He'll kiss to that; significance.]

[ So apparently being likened to a hobo isn't enough to dissuade Solomon, which is interesting considering that JJ thinks of himself as someone with high standards. Or maybe Solomon just thinks that highly of himself, and considering that JJ slept with him the same night that they met, that might be a fair assumption.

Well, whatever. JJ likes to kiss in any case, and it doesn't take much to get his 20 year-old libido Going. He presses in harder, hand wandering from Solomon's cheek to his (dirty) hair to keep him in place.

Making out is nicer than cuddling, and JJ's always been physically needy.

Solomon's not entirely spared however, when JJ eventually pulls back to complain, ] Can you take a shower if we're going to make out? It's not my style to do it with you and all the dragon gloop you rolled around in.

[Maybe it's proof that he gets up to some vile things, but his brain didn't immediately peg Kissing After a Near Death Experience Regardless of Grime would be so abhorrent. He's accommodating at first, anyway -- even egging on some passion until it's abruptly (in his opinion) cut off.

He isn't frowning, though he's not amused.]

I wasn't rolling in anything unsavory. I may decide against sharing my bed with you after all.

[Instead of physically hurling him across the room, he opts to ruffle his hair. Fingertips cascading up against the shaved part of his head first, then mussing it somewhere in the middle.]

You stomached watching Diva massacre your peers but you're still complaining about the little things. [He'll give that same spot a tug for emphasis.] It's fortunate that this is the worst shape you'll see me in.

[ Thanks for bringing up that extremely traumatizing thing so casually, Solomon. Still, rather than going into #flashback mode, JJ instead enjoys the attention (—it sure is nice being pet like a dog, but that's something to unpack later on), and snuggles closer to give Solomon a light kiss on the nose. ]

Maybe if you weren't so obliging, I wouldn't be so demanding! Don't get mad.

[ Grabbing onto him, JJ falls onto his back, pulling Solomon along so that he's half on top of him, making it easy for JJ to help himself to Solomon's neck to drop more kisses like he's the bloodsucker out of the two. ]

I guess it's no different from working out.

[ Though he'd never had sex with someone after working out either. ]

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❪ event ❫ hour of ruin

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