❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets

[natha]

You've spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Now, the time to put all your survival training into practice has arrived: El Nysa needs you, and you're here to help the planet thrive. Are you ready? THE DESCENT     All refugees on the station are called to the hangar, where a large-scale teleporter awaits. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait; everyone will be sent down to the planet together. Before they depart, all refugees will be given a cold weather survival kit with warm clothing, rations, and bedding. The arrays build into a brilliant wash of light, creating a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa, teleporting the refugees to the planet on an aurora. Once on the planet's surface, refugees receive one last message from Darma. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet we must ask you to brave further peril. Within Nadril are the secrets to how poor Ysverai's revival was hidden from our sight and how this disaster has come to our star. Find the first refugee from beyond this planet, a man named Magda. He will not speak to us, for much has come between us, but to you… If you prove yourselves, he may be willing to answer your questions. We beseech you, for there is a veil over Nadril that hides all within from us. There may yet be more untold dangers waiting to befall this planet. For the good of all who make this world home, we ask you to lend us your aid. There is yet one more favor we would ask of you. In warding off the Storm's encroachment, the physical aspect of ourselves that you call Thesa Station was damaged. We must remain to continue repairs to El Nysa and to deal with Ysverai, but there should be suitable technology within Nadril that could be used for spare parts. If you have the chance to find it and can return it to us, it would hasten— Darma's message crackles with static, another image overlaying hers — her broadcast is cut off and replaced with another. A more sullen and alien voice takes Darma’s place, overlapping on itself in an ominous reveal. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet you’ve only just arrived here. To say I’m not disappointed in your… generation would be to lie, and I am nothing if not an honest creature. But I suppose these have been unusual circumstances. You must ask yourself this — are you only here as Darma's lapdogs? I can assure you, it's not worth being on the Natha's leash. With time, that will be something you'll have to learn for yourself. If you're so determined to come find Nadril, then follow the path north, and you'll find the border. What awaits you is revelation, if you're up to the challenge. A FROZEN LAND     The refugees land on a literally frozen world, both in temperature and time. Curls of icy wind hold swirls of snow aloft and an uncanny silence is broken only by the crunch of hoarfrost underfoot. Only Darma's protection allows the refugees to move through this frozen world — and movement is very necessary. Bitter cold sneaks through even the thickest clothing and without warning, a snowstorm rises: unnaturally quickly, a wall of white howls directly in the refugee's path. Bizarrely, the way back is perfectly calm; it's obvious that this storm is no product of nature. Magda's challenge becomes clear: the only way to Nadril lies through this storm. Visibility within the storm is near zero, the whiteout hiding any landmarks from view and making navigation near impossible. The only guidance refugees have is a sporadic path of faint, greenish lights, easily lost in the raging storm. Refugees need all the survival skills they practiced on Thesa Station to survive, for getting lost alone is a death sentence. Luckily, those separated from the group can happen upon guiding lights Magda has planted throughout the tundra. These blue-white sparks cause frostbite if handled recklessly, but they also serve as directional anchors, turning into ghostly flames that lead lost souls back to the path to Nadril. The trek through the storm will be no mean feat and will last for the better part of three days. By the time the refugees reach Nadril's gate, most will find themselves exhausted and running on fumes. As the snowstorm dies away and a gap in the glittering forcefield around the city opens to usher the refugees inside, it's clear that Nadril is a different beast. A WARM(?) WELCOME     I. Despite the unforgiving journey, entering Nadril is painless. Once inside, characters will be greeted by their predecessors: the original refugees who made this advanced city. They'll immediately be offered medical attention, as well as warm cider and blankets. But it's obvious that the Nadril citizens prefer higher tech to fend off the weather: they also offer wristlets and ear cuffs that that double as mittens and earmuffs by creating warm bubbles of air. The earrings also feature a few quality of life programs, such as timed alarms and thought-to-speech messaging. However, both programs are in beta stages so it's not unusual for a stray thought to accidentally slip through or an alarm to accidentally ring at an inopportune time. II. Refugees are offered free lodging in a large, crystalline building crafted from ice. Despite the coarse building material, the ice is unmelting and surprisingly well-insulated, and the beds are as warm and cozy. The rooms are, however, small. The sleeping quarters house two people, and are some cross between an igloo and a capsule hotel. Though built for efficiency over comfort, all rooms are also outfitted with the latest Nadril AI, RoboAlfred, or Ralf for short. This helpful program is installed in practically all the furnishings: the closet tells guests to bundle up, the bathroom sink reminds them to brush their teeth, and the mirror offers helpful fashion tips. Ralf's personality matrix still needs polish, though: it may very well insult your clothes and passively-aggressively question your lifestyle choices for the entire stay. III. Though not as advanced as Thesa Station, the colony has technology far beyond the rest of the continent, such as rudimentary AIs and mechanical transportation. Nadril's skyline is a point of pride — refugees can take a (literal) lightrail that gives an aerial view of the colony, which is hewn almost entirely from ice and rock. Despite its tech, Nadril is much more sparsely populated than Olympia and Wyver, and its residents stay near a central hub: a Natha refugee drop ship, Central, which has crashed and long embedded itself into the earth. Central is similar to an older, smaller, grounded model of Thesa Station, in functional order with round-the-clock solar power. Within Central are lounges similar to ones on the Station, though many of the damaged areas have been converted. They include repair stations, different wings dedicated to science, botany, astrology, and mechanics, and a research and history facility, which has a smattering of technology from planets beyond El Nysa — including your own. The staff here don't mind if anything is sampled and studied, but objects cannot be taken from the labs. IV. On the outskirts of the central hub, many will find several curious looking bots with insect-like wings perched about high traffic walkways. Simply passing the bots will cause a dizzying flash before a series of photos print out. Upon closer inspection, people will find that these images reflect stills taken from their home worlds as they remember it. Unfortunately, these photos only last a couple of hours at best. At that time, they will revert back to regular pictures of the refugees. People will be encouraged to share these images of their worlds. The residents of Nadril comprehend the value of remembering one's origins, and will be pleased to see that people still hold memories of old homes close to them. RECREATION IN NADRIL     I. Small, mechanical creatures scampering through the city are a common sight. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that they come from a shop called Paws About Town. They’re very useful, as companions, gophers, and couriers (though the more mischievous will note that they’re just small enough to keep tabs on people without being noticed). Premade robotic pets are available on display inside the shop. They come in all shapes, but small sizes; one may be able to find robots that even look like miniature creatures from their homeworld. These are a part of a new, highly customizable line with programmable personalities. Customers have the chance to take pets for a one-day trial run. Those who don’t know how to program may want to enlist more knowledgeable aid, but the pets come with instructional pamphlets for basic personality traits such as obedience, helpfulness, playfulness, and bloodthirst. For returns, the switch to wipe the robot's personality to a blank slate is on the back of its neck, right between a switch to invert all traits, and a switch to have them learn by observing. Try not to press the wrong switch — you might wind up with a pet with a mind of its own! II. A. The Frosty Tap Cantina is a thriving hub of activity, but one of the major draws is the self-service bar: molecular mixology is wildly popular here. Playing with drink compositions can be a game in and of itself, and newcomers to the cantina will find that the bartender — a cheerful woman with lilac skin and three eyes — is always happy to give them a few tips on how to use the wide array of tools within reach of the barstools. All manner of drinks are possible — from glowing, layered cocktails, to clear drinks with colored, spherical bubbles and vividly-colored shots that give off their own smoke. There's a nightly contest in the cantina for the most creative drink created by a team — this may be as good a time as any to partner up with someone and see what can you come up with. Winner gets all their drinks for the night free! And, hey, even if you don't win, you get to drink whatever you make. The well-lubricated patrons of the bar are eager to challenge anyone nearby to a different sort of drinking game… Just how well can you hold your liquor? B. Holo-screens in the cantina are nearly always broadcasting some match or another of a game that looks very much like hockey, albeit played with sticks that light up and a puck that changes shape from time to time. Colonists here merely refer to the game as "the sport," and one of their favored pastimes is betting. However, they don't use currency — they wager dares. Nadril colonists are a tough, weathered lot, and they prefer to speak with actions over silver. Colonists will urge the refugees to take part as well. Common dares range from the ridiculous (lead a sing-a-long, attempt to make someone with a poker face smile) to the suggestive (kiss the person in the cantina you find most attractive, strip off a piece of clothing), to the outright reckless (venture out into the snow for a certain amount of time, and no one will judge if you find some company to keep warm). The colonists are unfazed by even the most insane or tawdry of dares — but you'll certainly be called a killjoy for refusing too often! Why not grab a friend and give it a whirl, or challenge a rival to a dare yourself? THE MISSION     I. On the outskirts of Nadril is the communications tower of the old refugees. This is where Magda resides, monitoring Nadril's technological protections, the extent of the Natha’s influence, and running his own personal projects for El Nysa’s technological advancement. It is isolated, filled with research labs and relics of the past refugees who have come to El Nysa — a living mausoleum of worlds swallowed up by the Storm whose peoples have refused to forget where they came from. Crew photos line the walls of the tower: pictures of alien families and friends, the refugees who came to Nadril before you. Each group of photos gradually becomes smaller in number, and the most recent of the pictures are from half a century ago. Magda's picture can be found among the first group of refugees, an unusually small cluster of photos dating back centuries in El Nysa's past. I have been on this planet for nearly two centuries. Life has come, evolved, and collided in an ever expanding culture. But Darma fears interference, and made this place a prison, with she our warden, stifling the growth of the creatures native to this world rather than encouraging them to flourish. She sent you here for answers in her stead because she knows I'll spurn her, and after seeing what that fool Raysc has wrought, I'll give you them — not for Darma's sake, but because I trust after all the Natha have done to you, you'll understand my decision. Mistakes were made, and I won't hide them. You've made it here so there's some mettle to you, and unlike the Orbiters, I'm not interested in hiding the secrets of the dangers we face. I gave Raysc what he needed to keep his actions hidden from Darma's eyes — what he needed to advance the primitive magics the Natha had doomed him to. It was old Natha tech, Darma's very own used against her. Hilarious, isn't it? Raysc learned of Nadril, and like you, braved the snow to find his way here. He proved his worth and his determination, and he spoke of a brighter future, El Nysa coming into its own, its people realizing their true potential, unhindered by the shackles that had been put upon them. I believed him. He had vision — or so I thought. In truth, he was a fool. A madman. He wasted the opportunity I gave him on his petty vengeance. But not everyone on this planet is such an idiot. Surely you lot aren't. The Natha are hiding things from us — about the Storm, about everything. And here in Nadril, we're going to find all those secrets. What's it going to be? Will you help us, or are you going to stay obedient dogs on Darma's leash? Magda isn't too talkative yet; after all, the new flock of refugees may just be here as eyes and ears for the Orbiters. But what he has said leaves you with plenty to talk about, and if you can earn his trust by helping out around Nadril, he doubtless has a great deal more to reveal. II. Central isn't the only Natha ship that made its way to El Nysa — another, crashed just outside Nadril's borders, is little more than a junk heap. It's here that you'll find the spare parts Darma asked you to retrieve for Thesa Station. What remains of the ship's hull serves as a windbreak, and snow has built up against it, turning the piles of old Natha tech inside into something of a snowy morass. Holes in the deck offer would-be scavengers passage to the ship's innards, barely illuminated with flickering lights — the tech is old, but hardy enough to withstand a crash landing, the severe weather, and the passage of centuries. Deep in the wreck are the remains of living quarters, research labs, VR arenas, mecha bays, cafeterias, and a host of other rooms, many of which may seem familiar from Thesa Station, albeit with a decidedly older feel to what remains of the smooth curves and sleek surfaces of the Natha architecture. Most of the ship's systems are damaged and the technology is nonfunctional, but that just means there's plenty of spare parts to be found. The wreck isn't in the best shape, its structural integrity damaged, and the drifting snow threatens to block off exit routes. Be careful while exploring and be sure to bring a partner. As it turns out, Darma isn't the only one interested in the wreck — Magda is also eager to get his hands on Natha technology. In his own way of taking some responsibility for Raysc, he's asking scavengers to bring him parts, muttering about seeing what he can do about Ysverai's curse. Bring him anything that looks useful, and he may have a chance to succeed, though whether he'll be more effective than the Natha Orbiters is up for debate... FINAL OOC NOTES     An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 NADRIL REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE BY AUGUST 5TH, 11:59 PM EST. As always, feel free to create your own prompts and explore the Nadril location page! There are a variety of activities made available, including fishing and cave exploration! Please direct questions to the questions thread below! Thank you! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[illuminating]

[When she draws her paw back, vaguely alarmed by the tickling, she tries to make up for needing to place it back on the ground with the others by bumping her head and ears under his hand encouragingly.]

You're very thoughtful, however you don't owe it to me to bring me treats. They were yummy, though, yes; and I'm thankful I was able to have some before. If I dreamt, I cannot recall them, although, do you know?, I dream all the time if I fall asleep now. I wonder if people dream as much as a wolf does.

[almaredemptoris]

[Her answer falls outside the range of anticipated responses, and so he looks suitably bemused.]

You believe I or another may wish to poison you, mademoiselle?

[He will not insist again that she has nothing to fear, for he knows that words only reach so deep, while actions penetrate much farther.]

[illuminating]

Adam, then. I'm honored you feel I've earned the right to know something precious to you.

[ words like this, and yet, she's still all wolf, still wagging her tail to express herself, too. ]

[willrevile]

[ Jim doesn't startle, just not being much of a startler, but he's very aware very suddenly that there's a gigantic dog in the dilapidated cabin with him. He's rubbing his hands together, working feeling back into them after long minutes of taking something complicated but broken apart. Some bits too shattered, but plenty of viable parts. ]

Uh. [ He watches as the dog - no, it has to be a wolf, surely, even though he's not sure if he's ever seen one in person. Maybe at one of those virtual tours they used to run for elementary school students; he's pretty sure he remembers a zoo. ]

Hey there. You wander away from somebody? [ It's not looking at him like he's prey, so maybe it's a pet. Can people have wolves as pets? .. This probably isn't even a terran wolf, it's gonna be like, a weird space penguin that just looks like a terran wolf. ]

[flask]

[It may be a slightly unfounded fear. It's a leap of logic, really. She's a goblin, so people want her dead. She's never been poisoned or even had the attempt before, but people have certainly tried to kill her in other ways.

And if she's being invited to supper, it seems the next logical step. People don't just invite goblins to lunch. People are too busy being afraid they'll be a goblin's lunch.]

There's a first time for everything.

...What food are you getting?

[expiable]

[ the drinks are a local special, something silver and smokey. there's an unexpected warmth to them, kicked up a notch by the slight burn that signifies a high proof. they just might be her new favourite.

and there's the company, too. natasha allows her smile to widen. ]

Definitely. [ but a knack for reading others is often honed through unnatural means, in her experience. ]

Mind if I try my hand at it? [ she takes a generous sip. ] Wouldn't want to step on your gig.

[willrevile]

Oh? [ Jim pockets the ear cuff, careful not to damage it but fine with being a little chillier until he has a moment to look closer at the settings. For now, he looks instead at the pictures being nearly smushed into his face.

Does that look like Japan-- Jim has no idea. He's only been there on a layover. But it sure does look like the giant ginger in front of him. ]

It gave you something from home? [ He doesn't quite understand, until one of the little robots flits by and flashes a bright, weird light. When Jim opens his eyes again, it's holding out a photo. Cautiously, he takes it, and then watches it fly off. ] ... Okay.

[ofhousetarly]

The use of poison is very commonplace where Sam is from - a fact that he is going to keep to himself unless the other man brings it up in conversation. "Seven hells," Sam exclaims, still looking concerned. "We do have strong alcohol back home, but nothing that would make a person breathe smoke."

With a sigh he pushes the glass to one side, saying: "I think I shall give it a pass then. Thank you for your advice."

Now the bartender was giving him a dirty look for refusing the drink and Sam has to avoid her gaze, turning to the man once again. He's curious as to why he even tried the alcohol in the first place.

"Did someone challenge you to drink it? Like a bet?"

[illuminating]

[Yes. Only him. Though even from the back of her head, he can probably see the way she's turned it almost to a full angle, trying to puzzle out if he's still confused or what he could mean by what he's said, in the way all canines and wolves over-tilt their heads at a mystery.

His question has it lifting though so she can look up at him, still adrift in a moment of confusion, and—oh! Oh!

She practically wheezes out a whine, half leaping up, at least fore legs coming briefly off the ground, to smack her shoulders and top of head against his side in an unrelenting show of apologetic, demanding affection. Now, traveling with her is even more annoying, because she's both trying to walk, and jump up to paw at him, and... lick... his mask, her tail wagging ceaselessly. He may as well have said, "Did you forget something, dummy?" And bodily, she fusses and fusses, rounds him to press weight on either side, squeezes between his legs because... well, animals are just senseless and weird sometimes, particularly in a show of missing someone they care for, it's as if they don't know how to behave.

Throughout all this she does answer: I'm terribly sorry! It was earlier this month. I kept finding your scent, but those forsaken doors! And, finding you out here like this—I got a little mad, I think. Rocket told me about some of the things that happened. You didn't think I wasn't glad to see you, were you? I felt angry you'd wander off far enough that what if I couldn't keep you safe. It felt like we fell back into our usual visits, like there was no gap, and I forgot, I forgot to greet you, didn't I? Can you forgive me for it?

Her teeth playfully chew and gnaw at his gloved fingers, and she's prancing beside him, and it's just about the equivalent of swinging hands with him. Now, that I'm awake, she finishes up, I want to make sure things that tend to happen when I'm not awake won't happen again. I don't want you to freeze. Are you holding up all right, right now? I could put a fire in the air we can rest by for a minute, but we should still stay determined to return with the group.]

[givingback]

Look, whatever you are, I don't care. Not - that came out wrong - not that I don't care I just don't know anything about where anyone is from. So it really doesn't matter. At least not to me. Everything and everyone I've come across doesn't make sense.

[ So sheltered; she thought time travel was as crazy as her life would ever get. ]

I'm from America. On Earth. More specifically, Boston.

[willrevile]

[ WOW JEEZ. (Also he remembers being hella stoned with you, Dutch, he knows that you feel feelings.) Jim gives her an exasperated look - still somewhat fond - and reaches out to grab one of her hands in his.

Not a space heater, but he's nice and toasty from both his own general good circulation and the little heating devices he's got on. ]

C'mon, you can yell at me while I get you more cider.

[givingback]

[ God, right. Everyone here thinks Jamie is her father. And he is, but he isn't the father she's mourning. ]

Not Jamie Fraser. He's my mother's husband, here, and they had me, but he didn't raise me. Frank Randall was my father. Is my father.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ when did a horse become involved???? ]

... Uh?

[ For a second or two, he apparently considers and discards several things to say, evidenced by the way he takes a quick breath to begin speaking, only for no words to come out.

Then, he decides he is talking to a crazy person. ]

Okay, hang on, there’s a lot to unpack, here.

[ ... Where does he even start? ]

Okay. Okay. One: I was just pointing it out, man. I didn’t mean for you to flip out on me. Two: I don’t actually care what you do, just as long as you don’t steal anything from me. Three: I’m not gonna call the cops on you. I don’t get along with cops, as a general rule.

[ ... Not entirely true. He can be civil, but even as a Guardian of the Galaxy, cops tend to make him uncomfortable. ]

And four: I’m not gonna call the cops, but they— [ punctuated by a slightly pointed tilt of his head toward a store clerk, who’s very obviously stretching to peer at them over the shelves. Maybe they’re not being loud, but the animated gestures and the general air of exasperation coming from the two of them is probably wafting through the place. ] —probably will, so you might wanna take a deep breath.

[givingback]

[ This might be exactly what Bree needs, though. Someone who has no bias, someone kind who can just listen and maybe have an unbiased opinion. At his condolences, she manages a shakey and small smile. ]

Thank you. He was an amazing dad, and there's so much happening here that I don't understand, I just wish...

[ That he was here, that she had his steady presence to ground her. but she trails off, leaving the thought incomplete, and hen Sam introduces himself, she takes a breath and lets it out, composing herself and extending her hand in greeting. ]

I'm Brianna. But you can just call me Bree, everyone does.

i can't believe he already figured out that she's a penguin

[illuminating]

[He says, Hey there, and like a cue, her tail thumps behind her. The sound and snow falling up in powder behind her the main indicator of this, but she smiles as well, in that canine's way, lazily and with warmth. It's her way of greeting back, responding all the same. With perked ears, she turns her head almost completely to one side, and inches to hang a little more off the ledge, eyes deserting him to pin onto the bits of ship he's been examining.

She wriggles to sit into a panting slouch, lowering her head to stare at it with twitching nose, and then to raise her face to acknowledge him once more, letting out a curious whine on a single note.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ When she reels back, Peter tenses, flinching back with a murmured, ] Oh, shit—

[ But then she’s butting up against him, and she nearly bowls him over a few times, sends him stumbling through the snow and struggling to support her weight. Despite the shitty situation, he actually laughs — breathless and a little helplessly, sure, but mostly in that fond way that says, “What the hell am I gonna do with you?”

She seems to calm down of her own accord, though – and thank god, because he was really getting worried that she would lick his mask and totally get stuck there, like that kid in A Christmas Story who licks the school flagpole. And then where would they be? ]

It’s fine. Seriously. I’m just glad you’re back.

[ Which, admittedly, is a funny thing to say, considering he spent a fair bit of time being totally suspicious of her.

As tempting as her offers are, though, he shakes his head. ]

I can rest when we get back. I’ll keep until then.

[almaredemptoris]

[It does not escape his notice that the singularities of her appearance do not end with the mask and bandages. There are too the appendages protruding from her cloak’s hood like the ears of a bat, and the gleaming yellow of her eyes from within the shadow of the cowl. Yet while such details startle his mundane sensibilities, he has been on the planet long enough to know that there exist races of men that are not quite human. All the same she is, in his eyes, a young girl.]

I suppose I cannot produce any proof that I’ve not attempted to poison any children before...

[This he says lightly, as if playing along with an unspoken game.]

As for what I shall eat, I cannot say. I am not yet familiar with this city’s cuisine.

[expiable]

[ So maybe she's good at being a spy and mediocre at being a person LET HER LIVE!!

There's the first jump and then the second. Fortunately, the sequence doesn't recur. A new pattern of ums prompts an apologetic smile from Nat, as if she just realised that her sudden appearance might be unsettling. The girl seems nervier in close quarters, so Nat slips her hands into the pockets of her coat — a display of her intent to remain at a distance. ]

Is that what they're calling AI's these days? [ "Nothing." Nat leans back, peering into the hall to check for other nosy parkers, before she slots her gaze back on Futaba. ]

Mine said she spotted a grey hair. [ She huffs a laugh. ] Can you believe that?

[ this is so sad alexa play despacito ]

[colorature]

_{[Gurl she ain't LARPin.]}

I like garlic and the sun doesn't bother me, but human blood is part of my diet. I have an enchanting singing voice and I'm immortal. I was born a Chiropteran, I wasn't turned into one.

_{[Sounds like a shitty OC though tbh...]}

[monya]

[ before he responds, he's going to be nice and comfortable. it's already considerably warmer with Makoto right behind him, having some protection from the gusts of snow and wind that made his prior traveling a lot more difficult--- the reason why he sort of lagged behind. but at the same time, it seems to have benefited him!

for now, anyway. ]

Not out here! But I'm sure they're around.

[ he leans back and tilts his head up so he could get a better look at her: a sight for sore eyes, another one of the thieves no longer frozen in a pod...

which means... ]

Did you know Oracle and I decided you were the coolest?

[ it's canon. ]

[reek]

I don’t care what you say about my home. You never knew it.

[ He doesn’t even know where in Westeros his home truthfully was. He was born in one place, raised in another, reborn as another person elsewhere (if he can call the Dreadfort a home). It’s a confusing situation and he hates trying to sort it out. ]

House Greyjoy is my family line, as far back as the name goes. A master-at arms is charged with training the garrison and the children of noblemen. Each reigning Lord for each House typically has a master-at-arms.

[ Yeah, he may be the Weird Kid, but he’s got some titles and royal blood to back him up. ]

Your mother must have told you about me. Other people tend to have more questions.

[ More to do with his missing fingers or broken teeth, why he won't make eye contact, or why he flinches at each new sound. ]

[lednikovyy]

"In the face of a storm like this, we're all delicate flowers." There's a little humor in his voice as helps her up. Even he's feeling the effects of it, so he can't imagine how bad it is for everyone else. Humans just weren't made for the cold, wet storm raging around them.

"Don't worry. I know girls are tough." He's smiling, but it's covered by several layers of scarf.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[How brows lift up in surprise--not that he declines, but that she gets such a look. He hasn't dared to be that bold in some time. It's nice, in a way, but the timing is terrible.]

Theon. Please.

[It's a silly thing to be so stubborn about when she's been a witness to his tears so often these past few months.]

Of all the bloody moments to not accept my help, this is not the one.

[icingonthecake]

"Nice to meet'cha, Yoshiko," he says, and then leans against the wall, folding his arms and giving a shrug. "Man, who knows?" he says, shaking his head. "He and his cronies seemed to be of the opinion that Wyver should be like... ruling the planet or something, I think," he says. "Nobody could ever really get a statement from the guy or anything, but it seemed like he thought bringing back a dragon god would put Wyver back on top of things. At least that's kind of what I got from it."

He scratches his head.

"Instead it just got him eaten and the planet frozen in time. Good job, Raysc."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sIlNIVXpIns

[monya]

[ um. well, there's a cat watching Elliot yell at a robot while also missing a grab with his mittened hands. and here he thought everyone would be having a great old time, especially after almost freezing to death and finding an amazing city all in the same period of time?

but, nope. not this guy. so it's time to figure out what's going on with him.

carefully, Morgana slinks across the ground--- sitting on his haunches and going flat while staring up at Elliot. innocent cat things, don't mind him. an actual cat! nothing weird about that.

nope. ]