Entry tags:
- *event,
- avatar: mai,
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- yuri!!! on ice: jean-jacques leroy
❪ 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. 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. 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.
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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[The clueless look on his face is telling enough.]
I don't...really know anything.
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Buckle up, Elliot, this is gonna be a wild ride.]
Don’t tell me you’ve never been aroused before.
[He would call bullshit if Elliot claimed that he’s never popped a boner before.]
You know. Hard.
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[His dick works, tyvm.]
I've...touched myself but- [Yeah he literally almost just choked on the words "touched myself".] where I come from we're all kind of repressed okay? Showing a bit of ankle is considered scandalous!
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[WELL AT LEAST HE KNOWS HOW BONERS WORK.]
Well, girls get wet when they’re aroused, so you can just put it inside.
[So delicately put.]
Guys don’t, so you have to use something slippery like lube or lotion before you put it in or it’s gonna hurt.
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[Okay so like, he's only half making sense of what Chuuya's saying. Girls get slippy between their legs and then you just stick it in? Or something like that? But guys and girls are different down there so where the hell was the dick supposed to go? It couldn't possibly go...]
No. You're joking.
[Yeah it's just...dawning on him now where it'd go.]
WHY WOULD IT GO THERE?!
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[Chuuya is really gonna have to convince Elliot that it’s not as weird as it sounds...]
It feels good when it’s done right.
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...Seriously? It sounds pretty counter intuitive to me.
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Are you propositioning me?
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[Chuuya reaches out to poke the beauty mark under Elliot’s eye.]
Why not?
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It's a very profound question, at least to Elliot's wine addled brain. Why not, indeed. Well, there are a few very good reasons that Elliot can think of off the top of his head, but none of them really seem to carry as much weight as they would if he were sober and not currently hating his very existence.
You see, for Elliot Nightray, right now he's hit a low. His cat is probably dead, his brother's passed out recovering from using his Chain but probably prone for another mental breakdown soon, his boyfriend/servant is in one of those pods taking a nap for who knows how long, and on top of it all, he's still grappling with the fact he's dead. Or was dead. Will be dead? He's not sure how what Gilbert told him works exactly, considering he's pretty alive and fleshy right now. (Although one could argue he feels pretty dead on the inside.)
The poke to his cheek has him cocking his head to the side, ever so slightly, taking a moment to re-examine Chuuya's face and features. It's not like he's ugly or anything like that. He's charming in his own right and sly. He reminds him of a fox a bit, especially with that red hair he's got and sharp blue eyes...but he won't say as much, because that'll probably get him laughed at.
It's definitely not the smartest move Elliot's ever made in his life, when he decides to wordlessly lean in, determined to plant a kiss on Chuuya's lips. It's not the most coordinated move either, as he ends up missing his mark and kissing the corner of his mouth instead. Even so, the intention's there and so is the answer to the question he'd just been asked.]
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He can totally tell he’s being checked out, but he has no problem with it. It’s about time that Elliot noticed how hot he is, after all!
What he isn’t expecting is for Elliot to make a move on him, and his eyes grow comically wide when Elliot leans in to plant a kiss on his lips. Or tries to, anyway, missing the mark a bit but still catching Chuuya completely off-guard. Who knew the prude had it in him? Chuuya’s surprise soon turns to amusement, and instead of pulling away he tilts Elliot’s chin up to hold him still before kissing him properly. On the lips. With absolutely zero shame.]
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Elliot may be a prude in Chuuya's eyes, but he's not ever one to back down from a situation, especially one that presents a challenge of sorts. It's getting over himself that's the main hurdle and for someone who has come off as pretty stuck up he doesn't seem the slightest bit shy when he finds his chin being tilted and the angle of his head corrected so their lips can properly meet.
Does he have shame? Absolutely, but right now he's managed to shove it away for a later indulgence as his teeth find Chuuya's lower lip to tug on it. Does Elliot know what the hell he's doing? Absolutely not. He's only kissed Leo a few times and only once had that turned into something more surface level. That said, Elliot's a quick learner, if not an impassioned one. He never half-asses anything, even something like this.]
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Chuuya is definitely surprised when he feels teeth tugging at his bottom lip, but the gesture is more than welcome, and Chuuya grins into the kiss before grazing his teeth over Elliot’s bottom lip in retaliation. It’s not hard to get him riled up, especially when he’s drunk, and if Elliot doesn’t pull away Chuuya is going to tease the seam of his lips with his tongue.]
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The thing about Elliot too is that he's loud, even when it comes to something like this, and there's no absence of sound that comes from his throat as they kiss. It's closest to a breathy moan, that'll reach Chuuya's ears, as he raises a hand to card deft fingers through red hair.]
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The hand in his hair is also nice, and Chuuya sucks lightly on Elliot’s tongue as a sort of reward.]
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He's never had his tongue sucked on before. In fact, he hasn't done much of anything before, and this is akin to going from riding in a carriage drawn by horses to suddenly driving a car on the freeway. He makes a little noise, one that is a sound of enjoyable confusion. It's weird but it sure does feel good.
And it feels even better not to think.]
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Eventually he does pull away, cheeks flushed and grinning, and if there’s anything else Elliot wants to try, now is the time.]
Good?
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[He answers as if it's a stupid question to ask, like it should be obvious that it was good. If it wasn't he clearly wouldn't be doing it! Right?]
Why'd you stop?
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[Would that be a bad thing, though?]
Is that what you want?
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[No really, he doesn't see the problem if he's just sitting?]
You don't look that heavy.
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Nope. Nothing.
[Nevermind that his ass is planted right on top of Elliot’s crotch.]
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With Chuuya like this he can notice details he didn't bother to pay attention to before, which is partially a blessing and partially a curse. Mostly a curse, because he can't seem to keep his thoughts to himself.]
...You have really pretty eyes.
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Oh, but that compliment actually gets him blushing.]
Yeah? What else about me is pretty?
[This face. Beware Chuuya’s thirst, Elliot...]
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It's true that if Elliot wasn't as intoxicated as he was he'd be having none of this, but it's his desire for comfort and contact in the wake of a severe lack of it that helps keep him complacent for now.
There's no hesitation as he reaches up with a hand to trace the slope of Chuuya's nose until he pinches a few strands of his bangs between his fingers.]
The shape of your nose and your hair. It reminds me of copper.
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