❪ 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

[revlon]

[ God. Dragons. Magic was one thing, she has seen science create something like magic — she knew the Red Skull was obsessed with attaining some otherworldly power, she was working a case in Los Angeles that felt supernatural — and she has seen it in people like Percy Jackson.

But somehow, encountering beasts that were the stuff of fairytales? Seeing how great and terrible they truly could be? How does one even begin to grapple with something like that? (Alcohol. Clearly.) ]

I pretended to slay dragons as a child, [ she tells him, almost deadpan. ] Never once in my life did I expect to be put in a situation where I actually had to do it. [ Everything up until that point had been the slaying of hypothetical dragons. ] The Natha just had to pick this planet, didn't they?

[tailorable]

[ Dragons, demigods, and vampires, oh my. What a thrilling, terrifying planet this is. He takes another drink, smiling over the rim of the glass at Peggy's delivery. He'd believe she was a dragonslayer, even if only in imagination. ]

Maybe our planet's the weird one, and everyone else has dragons, alien overlords, [ he pulls a face. ] the whole lot.

[ Another drink follows 'cause Jesus Christ that's a lot to consider, when so many others have confirmed as much. He may not be as normal as everyone thinks, but El Nysa is his first experience with the otherworldly and supernatural. ]

[revlon]

I wouldn't rule out aliens, [ she mutters under her breath, taking a sip of her own. She thinks of the blue creature packed away in a crate, confiscated from a HYDRA base. She thinks of what Steve and Tony have told her about the future. ] But I see your point.

[ Then she flicks her gaze over him, eyes narrowing a fraction in lieu of an eyebrow raising. He's tossing back that martini rather quickly. For someone who arranged this little get-together, he certainly is behaving like a man who'd like to get it over with. Or, at least, in a hurry to make it to the next round. The question is, does she press, or let him lay it out in his own time? ]

Thirsty, are we?

[ Or that. ]

[tailorable]

[ The remark about aliens prompts a tip of his head. Oh. Perhaps he had been naive in assuming they were from similar places — maybe even the same world. He doesn't subscribe to the "every single person comes from a unique universe" theory that some champion. Seems a bit egotistical to think you're special enough to warrant your own timeline or whatever, yeah? 'Course a few people are obviously from divergent places.

Others are harder to differentiate from himself. ]

Always.

[ Another round is absolutely in the cards, Carter. Eggsy can hold his liquor well. However, there is something else on his mind... A bit of a mess, in truth. ]

Ever met any supernatural types? Werewolves? Vampires?

[ welcome to twilight etc etc ]

[revlon]

[ She's also been having a lot of long chats with one James T. Kirk, who has on numerous occasions expounded on his time in space exploration and alien encounters. Consider her horizons suitably widened. But certainly not when it comes to werewolves and vampires — her brows go up, then drop back down before drawing together. ]

Uhm, [ she begins eloquently, setting her glass back down. ] No. No, I can't say that I have. I have met a wizard. [ Mr Nightingale, with whom they are both acquainted, she's sure. The Brits in Olympia all seem to overlap in some way. ] But no werewolves or vampires.

Have you?

[tailorable]

[ He rubs his jaw with his free hand. That's a natural follow-up question, and one he anticipated, yet answering it is still, well, a lot.

After a moment, he sets his glass down. ]

A few wizards. [ including Thomas, whom he finds himself grateful that she doesn't mention him by name. He'd been sloppy in his most recent encounter (sloppy being an adjective Eggsy applies to himself more and more each day). ] Witches. One sort of werewolf. One human in a werewolf pack. [ He didn't get the chance to inquire more on that front. ] And one vampire. [ a beat. ] Diva.

[ A name imbued with fondness. Perhaps a smidge of concern, too.

She's exactly where he intended to steer part of this conversation. ]

[revlon]

[ Well, this is all very matter-of-fact. She suspects there's a point to this so she lets him lead her there, turning her glass idly at the base and saving her next sip for when she knows what this is all about. And then he hits on it sooner than expected: Diva. She doesn't recognise the name, nor does she think she should, but the fact that it's the only name he puts out there of the lot means she warrants a little more attention.

All right, Mr Unwin. She's listening. ]

Diva, [ she repeats lightly. ] Friend of yours?

[tailorable]

Yeah. [ No hesitation. She is his friend. He spent time assuring her of that when she finally told him what happened on the ground and became... upset. ]

She's sweet. [ His mouth tightens. ] And strong.

[ Dangerous, too, though he doesn't vocalise it. ]

People have been hurting and using her since she was born. [ all of which flashed past him during the memory maelstrom. ] I don't know how old she is.

[ But this is all tablesetting. ]

[revlon]

So there's some truth to the stories.

[ About vampires never looking their age, living for decades (centuries). She's not sure if that's reassuring, it makes her wonder if that cliché came from a grain of truth somewhere in history, but that's musing for another time. She watches his expression, the shift on strong.

Did she hurt him and not mean to do it? Peggy hadn't noticed any injuries beyond the superficial. But she also assumed those were from the madness on the surface, the rubble, the dragon, the mobs pushing as they fled. What if there's more? ]

Is everything all right?

[tailorable]

[ Some truth to the stories, yes, though he thinks reality is scarier, in this case. ]

I'm fine. [ added quickly, just in case that's the veiled implication of her question. ] It's just — whatever affected everyone on the ground. [ the horrible sadness, the anger in the air like a toxin. Certain individuals couldn't bear the weight of it all. ] It hit her hard. [ He steels himself to rattle off the details neutrally. ] Made her violent. There were multiple casualties. No evidence left behind.

[ It was burned or eaten. The latter point won't be mentioned for the time being, as he attempts to avoid considering the (literally) gory details ]

She doesn't know how many people noticed her in the chaos 'cause she wasn't in control. Maybe some locals. [ He scrubs at his face. ] She only told me about one refugee, and I'm gonna speak with him. [ For Diva's sake, and to ensure the boy doesn't do anything stupid, like threaten a vampire. ] If we go back to Olympia, and someone comes to the guard with a report of a monster girl or cannibal or whatever — I don't want it to lead back to her. [ and firmer, even as he cards a hand through his hair. ] It'll end badly if people go after her.

[ He's worried about Diva, undeniably, but she's not the one who'll lose their head if a guard turns up at her place. Still, it's a fucking mess is what it is. Morally grey at bloody best, but he wants to help clean up her mess so badly — to protect her, like he couldn't protect the other important people in his life.

Eggsy isn't sure what he's asking of Peggy in this moment. Maybe he just needed to tell someone. ]

[revlon]

[ He isn't asking for her advice, no. So she gives him what she feels he needs now, which is a listening ear; she's patient, keeps her questions and opinions quiet, and contains the measure of horror she feels at the thought of a vampire on the rampage. Multiple casualties. Cannibal. Bloody hell.

Still, that's not what sticks with her the most. What does is the clear concern that bleeds through his voice. After a moment, softly, ]

This really troubles you, doesn't it? [ Unsurprising. His heart, in all the time that she's known him, has always been in the right place no matter who it was. ] You clearly care about her a great deal.

[tailorable]

[ He exhales sharply. Naturally, he agrees with what Peggy says. Of course he does. It's been obvious from the day he met Diva that his approach would be soft, coloured by how easily and deeply he cares for people in similar positions. ]

Yeah, it fucking troubles me. [ Ah, too stroppy. ] Sorry. She just — I was in her head, like you were in mine. [ which is the first time he has mentioned their trip down memory lane since then. He looks Peggy in the eyes. ] Made our get-together look like a holiday.

[revlon]

[ She shakes her head at the apology; it's a non-issue, the way they speak around each other. But he loops it back to that bizarre incident that transported them into their own memories and she frowns. They watched her chief get blown up and Eggsy get threatened with a meat cleaver while his mother stood helplessly by. Far from a holiday. The implications of what he says makes her lift her glass to take a sip.

Good Lord. ]

How is she now?