nysalogs | ❪ event ❫ what is the storm

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❪ event ❫ what is the storm—?

What is the storm —?

The sky is falling. The moon draws closer, visibly now. Whether you've found out from Nurray, or somewhere else, everyone now knows that in about a week, Thesa will collide with El Nysa. However, not all is lost - Nurray has a plan. Old technology is being powered by the storm somehow, giving the developers in Nadril the means they need to create a device capable of jumping back into the past. The device can only transport to one singular point in time per activation, but passing through is a better chance for safety than remaining. As long as you're in Nadril you'll make it, which is why she'll urge everyone to try to get all their business done and travel back north.

At first, it was a mere atmospheric pressure drop. Headaches, a sense of dread in the gut, and a chill that would not be quelled drifted over all of El Nysa's inhabitants. And then the days grew shorter. By hours at a time, until there was nothing left but night. Still lit with stars, people turned to Thesa, to their scholars, to their shamans for answers. None came, only exploding lights in the sky. One by one, stars began to burst, like the grimmest of fireworks. For one dreadful night, the sky was alight once more with the death of the surrounding galaxy as thousands of stars extinguished in a blaze.

And then came the lightning, low hanging clouds and whipping wind that howls at all hours. It brings with it calamity, beasts and fog and a reality shattering effect that progresses ever closer. Against these unstoppable odds, the people of Nysa are finally united - desperate, and determined to preserve their homeland.

IN WYVER

The life that imbues the jungle town has gone still. Animals do not seek shelter - they simply lay forlorn, lethargic and unresponsive to even their dearest handlers. The wild creatures are no different, with predator and prey supping from the same stream, seemingly resigned. Once vibrant plant life droops, blotted into obscurity by the darkness that surrounds. Only the people of this great kingdom remain lively, though their actions are fueled by desperation, than valor.

A rally cry rings out over Wyver, even to Olympia, begging anyone who is able to fight. Beasts no one has ever seen before have begun to attack, roaming the city and the lands surrounding as if it is their hunting ground. These creatures are cobbled together from the many worlds the storm has consumed - perhaps your own included. They could bear familiar technology, animal features, or even a loved one's visage. No matter their composition, they are always amalgamous, and always crazed.

The valiant warriors fighting these creatures have more to worry about than just the monsters. Their own bodies may become entangled and fused - an effect that only wears off when one retreats from the storm's epicenter. Specters also drift through the onslaught, oddly peaceful compared to the frenzy surrounding. They are wholly composed people, memories from planets devoured. Someone you know, perhaps, stuck in a loop - the same five minutes - for hours before fading away. They cannot be killed, doing so will simply reset the loop; they will vanish on their own, as mysteriously as they came.

I. THE FRONTLINES

Wyver might not be able to fully understand exactly what is happening, but they've already assigned a task force to combat these apparitions that have begun plaguing the jungle Kingdom. But the Storm is sentient; it has always gathered what it's known of the habitants of the universes the Storm has swallowed. And as it begins to unravel El Nysa, it will begin to learn of your time here — yes, it knows that you are trying to stop the Storm from happening, somehow. It knows you're looking to fight you way back north, and it simply cannot let that happen. After all, El Nysa is an anomaly created by Darma. All of its inhabitants, organisms, and even existence were not supposed to be.

The apparitions start off monstrous at first, taking forms of ghostly bestiaries. Your weapons won't do much to get rid of them — they will disappear, but only temporarily, until they come back. Each time, more evolved than the last — until it's able to take on the form of someone who has left you, someone who has returned to the stasis chambers in Thesa, awaiting to be devoured by the Storm.

Your partner will likely be doing the same, haunted by images of their loved ones of the past — and there is a possibility that as you fight along with your partner, that these apparitions will combine into ghastly, wretched creatures, serving no other purpose than to spook you into submission. They will fight you, embrace you, and seduce you into staying. "Let the Storm take care of this," they'd stay — "You've got it all wrong. You and that Witch had it all so, so wrong."

Will you make it out of Wyver, or will you let the Storm take you?

IN OLYMPIA

All of Olympia is awash in fog. It creeps in around each and every corner, so thick it is almost difficult to breathe, and even more difficult to see. You can hear the panicked citizens all around you, although through the fog, their shapes are indistinct and almost menacing. A family fleeing from something might look like a quick-moving, multi-headed monster, or perhaps a lone man hauling his belongings to safety on his back might appear to be an imposing creature with wicked claws. And then, of course, there are the figures that look achingly familiar to you, like someone you've lost or care for deeply… but then, when you catch up to them, they vanish, only to call out for you from somewhere further in the city.

Tread carefully — with your impaired vision, it would be all too easy to inadvertently wind up injured. Of course, this isn't solely due to the hazards obscured by the mist, although that is certainly part of it. The fog has a quality to it that serves to amplify the desires and lower the inhibitions of everyone exposed to it.

II. SILENT HILL

Similarly, Olympia isn't properly equipped to deal with a crisis like this. Wars, they are certainly accustomed to — but when their very own land is indiscriminately being torn apart by alien forces, it is uncertain to know for sure what they can do. Word from Nadril is that the inhabitants up north has opened its gates for everyone to enter — this is news to Olympia, but they do not hesitate to migrate to the chilly gates regardless.

The first obstacle, of course, is to find a way out of Olympia. The fog is debilitating, but you may not immediately notice it. It starts small. A spark of annoyance at getting cut off by someone you barely saw coming might twist itseful up in you until it becomes unbridled rage. Simple fear becomes indescribable terror, and of course, people are at their worst when they are acting on fear. If what you want is an escape, you may find yourself willing and able to do things you simply could not fathom in order to get out of there. If what you want is riches… well, there is plenty of wealth ripe for the taking, should you simply ambush someone fleeing or break into their homes. The longer you spend in the fog, the more difficult it will become to fight back these urges.

If the fear doesn't completely paralyze you, you may find that there is a rather unconventional yet risky way of alleviating this ailment -- which might require someone you trust. The thing is, upon holding someone, all of your fears will be transferred unto that person. It will then be your duty, then, to escort them out of the fog before your fears start to completely deteriorate your ally's psyche. Move quickly, or you may both be crumbled by the weight of this Storm and its fog.

IN NADRIL

The journey north is treacherous, but not without its own rewards. Nadril is marked by a storm that is raging at the territory's edge, as if the forces of nature are attempting to do away with the border itself. Strangely, the storm seems to be stopped by the borders — electricity crackles in midair as snow and ice whip about, disintegrating when they touch what seems to be an invisible dome sheltering the area.

Inside, the weather is even stranger. The iced-over lakes have begun to thaw, and it is warmer and brighter than anyone here can recall it ever being — almost as if it is summer near the Olympia-Wyver border, not the dead of winter near the northernmost part of the isles. There is an almost palpable level of unease as those who live here full-time attempt to adapt to their new climate.

Everyone is working, however. At the center of Nadril is what they all hope will be a solution to their problems: they claim it is a time machine, and that they have tested it through simulations and believe that it can, and will, work. They are already using it to help combat the storm at the borders — at times it does manage to penetrate the dome, but when it does, engineers turn back the clock an hour at a time to so that they can divert power to the parts of the shield that they know will need reinforcement. Be careful when this happens — it would be very easy to run into your own double in such a circumstance, and that could be… awkward, until enough time passes to bring you back to the "present" and you merge once more, taking on the memories of everything that you and your double (or triple, or quadruple) have experienced.

Operating such a machine will take manpower, which the people of Nadril are prepared to provide. However, the undertakings they will require in the past — waking the gods, who they believe can provide protection from the Storm if you can convince them — will require all of you. Relying on a single person to change history is untenable. Only by working together will you be able to make the jump to the past and secure your future.

III. INCEPTION

Most importantly, there will need to be volunteers to undergo stasis. Pods that were similar to those in Thesa can be found all over the city center, beckoning people to sleep now, and hopefully wake to better tomorrow. But just as the Storm benefits some technology, it negatively affects others — but this is to do with the mind more than technology itself. For one, those undergoing stasis will find themselves dreaming of a better time in their lives — be it their homeworld or some other happy memory of theirs. The Storm magnifies this dream — everyone within a certain radius will find themselves entering the dream, despite being wide awake.

Inside this dream, you will know instantly that something is awry. The events of reality, of the awoken, are beginning to seep into the sleeping person's dream. The lines between dream and reality become blurred, and you've been tasked to ensure that they remain asleep. That means that you must guide them into believing that nothing is awry with their happier memories, that they are not dreaming, and guide them through it. Ensure that the nightmares of reality be kept at bay, and that they may sleep through it all.

The Ark of the Woken

The Ark of the Woken awaits, its chambers an imposing majesty of their own. Compared to the sleek design of Thesa, the Ark is a cobbled together patchwork of technology. But even with its exposed wires and manual input systems, Nurray promises it will get the job done. That is, once the pods have been brought to it from Thesa. The targets are Thesans who have previously awoken, however, no one has time to actually inventory the sleeping ones brought to this hamlet. If you choose to bring someone else, you'll probably get away with it.

The procedure is harrowing - severing the pods from Thesa runs the risk of interrupting the life support system inside. To compensate, there is a small device that can be hardwired into a port on the back of the pod. It's fragile, and the function it provides only lasts twenty minutes. You have that time to move the pod to a small ship, and pilot it planetside yourself. Nurray suggests traveling in pairs - the Natha duo pilot ships are faster, and more reliable. However, they rely on a neurolink between pilots. If one is not focused, the ship may begin to malfunction. While navigating through rough turbulence, each pilot will be able to feel the others emotions, and hear whispers of their thoughts.

All while the storm clouds around them play glimpses into their memories. Snippets, only seconds long, from the perspective of the pilot, provide easy distraction. Stay on task, and make your landing safely - your lives and others are depending on it.

A Simpler Time

Your seven days is up. You have (mostly) achieved all your tasks, and you are now waiting. Those harrowing last hour may stay with you forever — while your peers tirelessly secure the time machine's effectiveness, you watch as Thesa draws closer. It's closer to you than you've ever seen it, more menacing than you realize as it threatens the lives of everyone you ever cared for. Alria, the lesser known moon, is first pulled toward Thesa, crushing a side of it. You may witness debris spilling into space and dissipate into the atmosphere.

You might think, perhaps, that those were bodies of some you were told not to bring to the Ark.

But you're assured many times that that won't matter, that this can be fixed if you simply wait and watch. The time machine will work.

It's into the final minute, and time seems to stop — yet, you feel your breath catch as Thesa penetrates the atmosphere. You can no longer breathe, and gravity loses all its bearings on the laws of physics. As you float into the air, you're wondering if the light that engulfs you is an explosion — you might wonder if it could be death. At the very least, you are among people you've known on this planet. It isn't as though you were never meant to survive the first Storm.

Simply close your eyes, and the Storm run its course.

In the distance, you hear a muted voice.

What is the Storm,
But an attempt to cleanse the world —
Of its anomalies?
Open your eyes, Traveler,
Where are you now?

FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome to El Nysa, Year XXX. Due to the time warping of the Storm, this event will not strictly follow the 1:1 ratio. Additional information about this world will be revealed early next month! For now, play at your pace. RNG for NPC threads will announced later tonight!

RECOMMENDED LISTENING: Live Forever

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[ Empress Simwe does not travel light. It is, perhaps, ill-advised for her to have so many of her belongings with her, but she does not seem to want to leave them behind. She looks Thomas over, narrowing her eyes at him through the fog. ]

Ahh... so you are the one who will escort me to safety, are you?

[ Shanrian does not look particularly impressed by the idea of being escorted anywhere, but he supposes it could be worse. He watches TJ out of the corner of his eye and flexes his muscles. ]

It can't hurt to take just one swing at them, can it?

[ By them, he apparently means the creatures running amok. ]

[ Shenya does not much like the prospect of being separated from Shanrian, and that is clearly obvious in his expression. But he understands why, as well, so he does not put up much of a fight. ]

Well. Shall we proceed?

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

𝐚. 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥.

[Molly's sense of nihilism and his understanding of the inevitability of death means he's prepared for most endings, but this is so far beyond him. Before the fog rolled in and obscured the sky, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the bursting stars, horrified by things he never thought could happen. It's for the best that the fog is here to keep his eyes forward.

He can't keep track of his people in all of this mess, however. This is why he hates the way they're living now. Everyone is too scattered and he can't keep up. He keeps getting disoriented and turned around and he finds that extremely irritating. The fog's effects begin to tighten around his head until he starts to grow suspicious of every shape he doesn't recognize immediately. All someone has to do is press up against him, and he's suddenly whirling, sword cutting through the fog as he raises it up, impossibly fast. The golden gleam of the scimitar in his hand is dulled by the swirling fog, but it's still there and pointed directly at whatever person who crossed his path.]

Where are they? [Surely, they know. Surely they're responsible... That's what it feels like.]

𝐛. 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

[Molly's anger and frustration turns to fear on a dime as he keeps trying to escape the city, hunting for anyone he recognizes. The fact that he's alone taps into one of his darkest fears and it grows and grows until he feels like it's suffocating him. He can no longer see shapes and movement nearby and he's not certain if that's a trick of his mind or if he's truly been abandoned in this nightmare. His heart pounds in his chest and he tries to steel himself to push forwards, but then he hears it.

Empty. Toya's voice, almost a song.] No.

[Empty Ornna's voice, lilting and a bit mocking. Molly's breath hitches.] That's not funny.

[Empty, Mona and Yuli say in unison. Molly draws both his swords and swipes frantically at the fog, teeth grit.] I'm not stupid! This isn't real.

[Empty. Desmond. Empty. Bo the Breaker. Molly's swords slip through his hands and clatter to the ground by his feet so he can raise his hands to his ears and try to block it out, but the repeated word just keeps echoing.] I'm not. Stop fucking saying that. Shut up, godsdamn you.

[Empty. Disappointment radiates through both syllables. Gustav. Molly feels his knees buckle. If it's not real then why does it feel like if he opens his eyes he'll see Gustav standing over him with such cold contempt...

And then finally, "Lucien!" Cree's voice, that same relieved tone she'd used when she first saw him. And it echoes and repeats until everything in the fog cloud is just a constant buzzing of empty and Lucien and Molly's certain his head will split with the din. As the voices reach a crescendo, he turns his head to the fog-covered sky and screams a cry of frustration and anger and fear meant to drown out the voices, and all goes silent as soon as he's too hoarse to scream.]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐜. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐭

[After what happened in Olympia, Molly is glad to be able to properly kill something. This much he can do- this much doesn't tap into his fears. No one he knows here has ever returned to the stasis chambers, so the monsters can't do much to him but continue to come back worse and worse while he just keeps cutting them down.

The person he's fighting with, however, might not be so lucky. When he sees that flicker of hesitation, he moves to intercept.] Hey. You all right?

[If both hands weren't wrapped around a pair of glowing blades, there'd probably be a slap in it for this person, but as such he can only be sympathetic and stern.] Time for feelings later, unless you want to die here.

𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

𝐝. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫.

[Molly's eyes, normally so wide-eyed and full of wonder despite the unsettling nature of how solidly red they are, now reflect the cataclysmic disaster unfolding in the heavens. He's been pacing restlessly, making sure all of the Mighty Nein are accounted for and secured as they enter this... next stage. He doesn't understand any of it, and normally that's cause for delight at the unknown, but he just feels sickened and painfully small and in desperate need of someone to hold onto. If it doesn't work, then fuck if he's going to die frightened and wringing his hands.

So he paces, tail lashing behind him, searching the faces of the people gathered around to wait it out, occasionally stopping to look up at the sky as something else occurs to elicit a gasp before dragging his eyes away and continuing his search for anyone who looks as miserable as he is or might be in need of comforting. It's all he can do.]

1. A Foggy Day (In Olympia Town)

[ It isn’t often that Theon leaves the silence of home, but curiosity gets the better of him in the midst of all this madness. They’re going to have to leave, but he wishes Claire would just let him stay.

He means only to walk a few steps, simply to get an idea as to what’s going on in the city, and for a time, that remains true. He stands still and silent and shapeless forms drift by, panicked voices on the air, muffled as if by cotton. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move, not until one of those forms takes a shape he recognizes.

Man and wolf, standing in the distance. If he squints, the fog easily tricks his mind into believing he can just make out the red hair, or maybe the gleam of the wolf’s yellow eyes. And then he hears the voice and he knows.

”Turncloak”, it says. ”Why did you do it?”

He just knows. ]

Robb, I didn’t—

[ He ambles forward toward the figure, gait unsteady with old wounds that didn’t heal quite right. The figure of his old friend disappears before his eyes, however, and calls to him again from somewhere within the fog. He continues onward, chasing the ghost further through the streets, growing hopelessly lost. ]

2. Silent Hill

[ The fog is stifling. Should it be so difficult to breathe? Should it feel as though he’s being crushed beneath stones? There’s dread in his gut, and it’s been building throughout the hours.

”Reek!”

Theon stops dead in his tracks, his blood running cold. Immediately, he takes on a different disposition: eyes down, head lowered; a trembling, wounded, pitiful creature. ]

Stop—

[ But the voice doesn’t stop. It’s clear as a bell, and he’s certain that if he looked up, he would see Ramsay Bolton standing before him.

”I should skin you flesh from bone for running away. You’ve forgotten who you are, haven’t you? You’ve been pretending to be Theon Greyjoy, but we both know who you really are. Who is that, Reek? I want to hear you say it.” ]

I’m not—you’re not real.

[ His breath hitches in his throat, his voice coming out in a pitiful whimper. I won’t say it, he insists, but he’s terrified, he’s shivering, and his resolve is weakening by the second. It rhymes with weak…

”He asked you a question, boy,” comes a second voice from the mist, stern and cold as the sea itself. His father. Theon flinches and covers his face, not wishing to see Balon Greyjoy standing before him. ”Is this what you’ve become? A flinching coward? You disgrace our House. You’re not a Greyjoy.”

“What is your name?”

”Weak.”

”Say it.” ]

Reek!

[ It’s with agony that he gives into his hallucinations and spits out the name, tears welling up in his eyes. This isn’t the first time he’s had to be reminded. ]

My names is Reek. It rhymes with freak.

3. Wildcard

[ For all your not-here needs. Snag me at

muttonchops or just throw something at me. ]

FOG
Bucky moves quickly to pack his few essentials so that he can get out. It's with his gun strapped to his back and a backpack full of belongings (mostly his own, but he grabs a small item or two each of Steve and Peggy's).

The fog in Olympia is almost blinding, but Bucky moves through it, careful to step gently in case there's a hazard--or worse, a person--on the ground. He keeps his hands out when it's at its thickest so he won't walk into anyone or anything, either.

If he hears anyone, he'll call out a simple greeting to them in the haze, and if it's been a while on his own, he might talk to himself just to alleviate the silence. It's too isolating now. He's too used to having people again.

"Focus, Barnes. Just keep moving. One foot in front of the other." Once he gets out of the city, he'll send messages to everyone he knows, make sure they got out, too, but he's not much use in the thick of this.

Later in his movement through the city, he's asked to help place out the torches that light the way through the fog, but it doesn't make the eerie atmosphere any easier to traverse alone.

[ Happy to write more individual starters for Nadril if anyone wants Bucky in their character's dreams or something else with any of the Nadril prompts. Hit me up in PM or at

blauren. ]

Edited 2019-01-16 08:36 (UTC)

Sorry Asterix, Toutatis won't be saving you, now. (STORM)

[His skin is damp [that is new] and his eyes open to darkness [that is not].

His nostrils flare for a short moment - he can't smell ozone. The air feels thick enough to storm, doesn't hit his skin to shock it with temperature, but seeps into his body to aim directly at wherever his former injuries had been [31 of them, to be exact].

He sits up, rubs his jaw - sweat on his fingertips, check. He reaches for the shades in his jacket pocket, wiping the lenses with the hem of his shirt as he listens that aside from the restless buzz of a city, it was quiet.

So quiet it begged quiet. And even before he had become a man that steamed for hours with his own self and his own decisions in the dark, he had known this quiet in the muddy footsteps of a warzone, before a bloody palm hits his cheek and an explosive hits hers. Between the flutter of wings and screeching tires. It always wrapped around whatever went beyond himself, what he couldn't control.

If anyone stumbles upon him, however, getting promptly up and pushing the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to free his forearms, he'll tilt his head.] Ready?

Fantastic Beasts and Where the Fuck You Should Run To If You Find Them (WYVER)

1. The Social (Network)

»un: BLADE; to: All; [AUDIO]
[This is not a request, it's a very quiet, calm order, from someone who knows is needed but can't do much without it without this being followed.]
I need a sword.

2. Join the army, they said. It'll be fun, they said. (Frontlines - cw: some body horror possible)
[In his hand there's a blade and Mamoru looks very, very at ease. Shoulders back and lowered, steady footsteps, he comes to a stop when he finds a clearing with four apparitions, one bearing what seems a very weird mullet-like hairdo, one with the semblance of a powerful man with something metallic-like as an arm, a dark curvy figure that seems to slither instead of walk, another with a skull too big for its body, scar on its face.

His lip twitches and he lunges, making quick and effective work of slicing right through them. No hard feelings, it's just business.]

3. Where's Gary Oldman when you need him??

[Or maybe you find him on one knee. Exhausted. Injured. Looking up at the figure of a very evolved apparition, who seemed to condense itself into a small human: soft features, young; a pretty cute child. She's smiling, offering a hand, prying him to loosen the blade that he had stuck in the ground to help himself get up but stopped midway. It's okay, Mamoru-san. I've seen it. It's going to be okay, she says.]

Look, all I'm saying is that I'd be dragging a huge kitchen knife too if I had just come out of the shower and someone shoved a pyramid on my head (SILENT HILL)

[Impaired vision? Hah. Don't make him laugh.

So when he hears that there's a fog (there is, he can sense it) and that people need help navigating through it, he raises his hand to help. Maybe he's the one guiding you, leading you to the place you need to go. Or maybe he'll step forward in wide strides to stop you from lunging at someone in a panicked frenzy.

But little by little his patience chips away. He hears voices, a soft, feminine cry of Mamoru-san!, a stern gruff tobacco-laced voice going HIJIKATA. He has to take a deep breath, jerks a thumb over his shoulder when he turns to you.] C'mon, let's get going.

I bless the raiiiins down in Aaaaafricaaaaa (Wildcard)

[Anything you guys wanna do but can't pick up on from these prompts? Feel free to throw me whatever. Also, if you have questions or wanna discuss anything, hmu at jackuzis#7200 or mikefoxtrot]

Edited 2019-01-16 12:11 (UTC)

OLYMPIA • FRASER RESIDENCE •

[ Claire has been gone too long. Long enough that Jamie’s mind cycles through the things that have happened to her while separated from him: nearly burning, jumping into the ocean, attempts of assault and murder and even here, stabbed. Lightly, she said.

Christ.

He dresses; kilt, shirt, and boots, sword at his hip. He’ll contribute along the way, he decides. Try to light the lamps he can see flicking to say aflame through the windows. But he’s going to find his wife. He tells Bree, tells John, worries about Fergus in Nadril and clenches his jaw. Brianna’s to stay put, come hell or high water. She’s not to go out.

Jamie makes his way to the door, opening it and squinting at a figure coming toward him, hand going to the hilt of his weapon in anticipation. ]

Who’s there?

[ If it were his wife, come to her senses, he can’t say he would mind it. ]

OLYMPIA • SILENT HILL • I.

[ As long as Jamie is doing something to help beat back the fog, he figures Claire can’t really yell at him for being reckless. Which he knows she’ll do even if she’s the one out here, even if she’s the one he’s looking for. Squinting through the fog, every time he manages to get a torch lit he calls her name, yelling it into the bottomless darkness. He never expected to hear a voice call back.

She truly does look like me, ye ken.

It takes his breath away and he leans into the fog, seeing a wisp of it he thinks, a tendril of red hair. ]

...Ma?

[ My granddaughter.

As Jamie steps forward and his mind races with the possibilities, the figure disappears and he’s left blinking at nothing. Looking around, he tries to search, thinking he glimpses tartan in the distance.

Tell me of her, Jamie. Come find me.

He doesn’t mean to forget about the task at hand, but Christ, it’s his mother, dead since he was a wee lad, and he calls after her, shouting with urgency as he’s lured further into the fog. ]

OLYMPIA • SILENT HILL • II.

[ The further Jamie goes, the more choked he feels and now the desperation to find Claire is so overwhelming he can’t seem to stop his thoughts from tumbling into one another. He would do anything, give anything, fight whatever is needed if he could find her. ]

Bring me back my wife!

[ He shouts it at nothing, but the voice that calls back makes bile rise in the back of his throat.

No, I think I’ll keep her for myself.

Randall. ]

It’s me ye want, we both ken it. Let her go!

[ Jamie’s sword is drawn, he’s not defenseless this time, and he walks, this big, hulking, Scot of a man, toward the figure in front of him. To save Claire, he would do anything, including the same torture he suffered at Wentworth. He would do it all again to spare her. ]

I give ye free claim of my body and soul, but in the name of the Almighty, let this woman go.

[ He raises his weapon, ready to kill if his demand isn’t met, if his offer isn’t taken. ]

• WILD CARD •

[ ooc: want something else? Hmu or contact me on plurk at

propernice ]

I. Olympia

[ Bucky makes his home in Olympia. Or, at least, he lives there. He isn't sure if he ever made it a home. When the fog starts creeping in through the windows, Bucky isn't sure he's ever had a home. If he ever will. The thought wraps around him, like a bedsheet— the kind that strangles, not the kind that keeps you warm. It's time to leave.

Soon he's out on the streets, blinking to keep back the fog. He almost trips over someone, the air is so thick. ]

Sorry— [ He says to his unfortunate victim, reaching a hand out. For some reason, he has to steady it. ] I… [ His voice dies off, as something else comes through the fog. ] What is that?

(ooc: I kind of want to do different fog encounters for different people, so lmk if you have an idea or just throw one at me.)

II. Nadril

[ It's warm here, and Bucky isn't sure if he likes it. He refuses to get in another tube for personal reasons, but he is curious about the time machine. It isn't like he didn't believe in them. But he never understood time travel, not really, not enough to make it seem like it didn't just cause more problems than it solved. Somehow, whenever he got mixed up in time travel, the Nazis always seemed to win.

But that couldn't happen here, could it?

He gets closer to the machine. ]

TIme travel. [ He says it skeptically, quiet enough so the Nadril scientists can't hear him. ] That trick never works.

[ Then the air around begins to shimmer. ]

III. A Simpler Time

[ It's like a car wreck, isn't it? What people always say about car wrecks. Aliria crashes into Thesa station, huge and terrible and somehow magnified by the distance. He wonders if their plan will work, if it's really too late to do anything else, how stupid he is for thinking he could ever stop something like this from happening.

Then he sees something fall out of the station, scattering into space like ashes on the wind. ]

Damn. Is that?

IV. WILDCARD

( I can be reached at

lightfellows or via PMs if you'd like to plot. )

Edited 2019-01-16 22:08 (UTC)

nadril - you're waiting for a train...
Dreamwalking is...unexpected. It's something she's never done before and honestly, something that Yoshiko probably doesn't want to do again. But there are people here who need help. If she convinces them that the dreams are alright, then she'll help convince them that nothing's wrong and that everything's safe. Besides...she's seen her other friends in stasis. She wants to help keep them safe.

This dream is one of a group of people, camping in the woods, having a good time and enjoying nature. Unfortunately, the ground shakes and some of the fog that appeared in Olympia starts creeping in on the sidelines.

Thankfully, Yoshiko isn't alone. She takes a deep breath, then turns to the person next to her. "Right. Just keep the dream stable and help everybody stay asleep? That should be simple enough for Yohane's powers!"

Though she's saying this, it's obvious enough in Yoshiko's tone of voice that no, this won't be simple enough.

wildcard
hit me up on plurk or pm and let's plot something out!

Edited 2019-01-16 22:45 (UTC)

OLYMPIA

[ Luke's only just woken up from stasis, and apparently, he's transitioned from one dying world to another. To hear that they're on a collision course, to see the chaos erupting in the skies above them, is well beyond unsettling, to say the least. He's not afraid for himself necessarily - it takes a lot to make him fearful these days, and certainly any harm coming to himself isn't something that truly scares him - but for others, for people he's only just started to know, and for his family still in stasis.

There are few feelings in the world worse than a sense of utter helplessness, and that's how he feels now. As the fog descends on them, he can't help wondering what's next, and if they really have any hope of surviving this.

A lot of people here probably have friends and family that are awake, people they can turn to for comfort and solidarity, even if all that means right now is just riding this out. He's relatively alone, and he's been in that place plenty of times before in his life, but at least back home on Earth, he had a better handle on the chaos. He's out of his element here, and he's worried about the few people he does know, even just a little.

That's why - with the best of intentions, but possibly not the most sense right now - he decides to venture out. To check on a friend he's made here. It doesn't take long for haunting whispers to surround him as he moves through the thick fog slowly, voices he hasn't heard in so long. He calls back, trying to silence them. It. Whatever's out there. ]

You're not - you're not real...

CLOSED (for givingback)

[ To say he wasn't a little nervous right now would be a complete lie; Brianna's just a friend, that's all, but he's been entrusted with her life, sworn to it while looking her father in the eyes. He's confident in his commitment to protecting her, he's not quite as confident in his ability to keep her from running out into that fog to try and chase down her parents. All he wants to do is keep her safe, and prove that his promise can be believed.

Moving further into the mansion, Luke finds Brianna in the sitting room, where her father had gestured, and he manages a small smile. ]

Hey, uh...surprise?

WILDCARD

[ feel free to reach me on plurk at

cityoflight or via PM ]

Edited 2019-01-16 23:46 (UTC)

frontlines—;

( he knows what it means to fight. to be put on the frontlines in order to keep back the proverbial advancing horde, to save the ones in need of saving.

but he hasn't found his footing in this place yet. has barely gotten his bearings in the form of speaking briefly with his friends( the ones that have come out of stasis themselves, that is ) and learning what he can about the storm as a whole, wrapping his head around such a monumental, disastrous thing in the only way he knows how.

he knows how to fight. he knows how to ( try to ) defend those in need and now isn't about to be any measure of exception, even if it seems that so far, any efforts in taking down the monsters that plague the jungle are all for naught. he isn't about to give up.

it doesn't matter that their weapons don't seem to be doing much by way of keeping the apparition from coming back, and back, and back; it's only when he's trying to stave off something particularly nasty that something familiar ghosts its way into his peripheral vision. no — someone in the form of a face that has always been kind, and forgiving, and understanding up to the point in which he'd decided he'd had enough.

a voice in his ears whispers, i told you not to expect me to be here when you got back, didn't i? and disappears. and it's more than enough to catch him off-guard, more than enough for a sudden blow to the middle of his chest to send him reeling, and find him flat on his back on the ground.

a face hovers above him, and there comes another whisper of you took too long.

you took too long.

you took too long.

it takes him a second to find his voice again, still sprawled across the ground in the sort of disoriented bewilderment that comes from one having seen a ghost. ) A-Adam—? ( no. nonono it isn't him, couldn't be him.

because shiro had only just seen his name on the memorial back on earth. it isn't, can't — )

the ark of the woken—;;

( he has a few misgivings about severing any of the pods and preparing them for transportation — mostly because he's always been a better pilot than any semblance of engineer, and when it all comes down to it? the procedure itself makes him a little nervous, but he'll get through it.

even if there's a niggling little thought in the back of his mind, one that brings him away from the task of the thesans in favor of those of his friends that haven't come out of stasis yet. coran. pidge. hunk. anyone he's ever been close enough to consider wavering away from a directive for, even though we all know this responsible man is never going to waver too far away from what's expected of him. what's needed of him, even if it means making a decision that he might end up wondering is the right one.

so. somehow he gets through severing a thesan pod and prepares it for transport; all he needs is a second pilot.

any takers? )

wildcard—;;;

( i have several thoughts / ideas for a couple of the other prompts, but i also didn't want to write too much and make this whole thing a headache to read. hit me up over at problematic if you'd like something different / specific, or just go ham with anything you want. as always, i'm easy! )

Wyver
A. Taking over this town ~~The only non-angsty one~~
[The streets are swimming with creatures, frightful and some nearly as large as the rooftops where Allura stood. She first climbed up as a quick escape, but now it served as perfect vantage point, vigilant eyes scanning the roads With the monsters seemingly unstoppable and the moon on a crash course with the planet, her priority was on everyone's survival. Her attention was on the people, watching for anyone who needed a quick escape or a helping hand.

There’s a commotion below, a small figure surrounded by a handful of larger ones. Whether they’re holding their own or not, Allura is quick to the side of the roof closest to them, Bayard sparking to life, but instead of lashing out at the creatures, she lets the long, effervescent tail of the whip fall to the ground, landing somewhere between the creatures and the person.]

Grab on!

[Take a lifeline y/n?]

B. Howling ghosts they reappear
[On the ground it’s chaos. Screams of both citizens and monsters alike mix and fill the air with their rage and terror. Yet there are just as many people who have taken to arms, courageously (or desperately) making a stand to save their city. Among them is a young woman in pink and white armor. The tail of Allura’s whip snaps, slicing through one of the smaller creatures, before spinning to toss a second over her shoulder. There’s a third approaching from behind and she spins-

And stops dead in her tracks.

Hauntingly familiar yellow eyes stare at her, long white hair hanging wild and unkept and framing a face that was twisted in agony. Rage. The sharp points of his canines visible behind lips that are pulled into what looks like a cry that’s frozen on his face. Familiar yet oh so wrong, neck twisted at an unnatural angle and body melted into the bulk of the beast, another half dozen faces and limbs belonging to the creature, but her eyes are locked on one..]

Lotor-! [Her voice comes out in a horrified cry, and in the moment that she’s caught off guard, one of the beasts giant hands slams into her, and the air leaves her lungs as she hits the ground hard , helmet knocked clean off and, arms pinned beneath clawed hands that press her into the dirt, while another pair of hands wrap around her throat. Almost gently at first, but then fingers dig in and she chokes on a breath. Lotor's face, one of many on the amalgamous beast, stares down at her and she's unsure if it's truly him in there, or just a visage the beast stole. A visage along with a voice, his voice-

Y̴̡ou le̢ft̛ ͢m̢̧e ͘͞͠to̴͝ diȩ͞.

Tears burn at the corner of her vision, and she gapes, struggling to free herself, but the beast is heavy, weighing on her.]

Help-!

[Someone. Anyone.]

Olympia
C. And as the world comes to an end
[Hopeless.

It's been eating at her ever since leaving Wyver, saying goodbye once again to a place she had called home and she didn't once linger to glance backwards at the lovingly named Treehouse of Lions when she left, not knowing whether or not it would be there when she returned. All she could do was put one foot in front of the other. Like she'd always done.

Her journey north took a short detour into Olympia. Surely there would be others who needed help. But the longer she stayed, the more her stomach twisted, anxiety building while her normally endless well of determination seemed to run dry.

She's still going through the motions, helping citizens navigate their way out of the city, but at one point, a pause to catch her breath becomes a linger and she finds herself standing, staring blankly at the scene around her. People running, rushing to collect their belongings from their homes, whatever they could carry, yet hesitant to leave their homestead, the longing already deep in their eyes as they cast one final look back at their homes.

Her nose and eyes burn, and she wipes a quick hand over her cheeks.]

I am not sure how many more times my heart can take it. Losing everything.

D. Wildcard
[There's so much going on and this is already a wall of text! Feel free to ping me if you want to work out any closed starters or hit me with anything, especially Nadril stuff!]

1. It's 5 O’Clock Somewhere (but not in Wyver)

[ Wyver is a sad sight indeed. Even poor Jehan’s garden has wilted, and Grantaire blames himself for a moment. He and Enjolras promised to keep it alive, and if one of them forgot to water it, it was surely Grantaire.

All of the plant life is wilting, though. He sees it when he walks the familiar route to his favorite tavern, and it eases his guilt to a certain degree. What doesn’t ease the knot in his stomach is the fact that he finds the tavern is closed, its doors locked and its windows bolted.

He heaves a heavy sigh and addresses anyone else who might be on the street. ]

Friends, it’s the end of the world. Should a man not be permitted to drink as it approaches?

2. Nadril

[ Nadril is not as he remembered it. It seemed as though it had been stuck in an eternal winter when last he was here. He can recall referencing Boreas, the Greek god of the north wind. Now, he feels as if he should be referencing Zephyrus.

He doesn’t get the opportunity. He laughs when the concept of a time machine is presented to him, and all his references are lost, traded in for pessimism. ]

I have suspended my lack of belief for many things in this place, but are some things not merely inevitable? Rainstorms cannot be stopped. I have never seen anyone prevent the changing of seasons. Perhaps this is merely another season, or another rainstorm.

3. Inception

[ Grantaire is a strange man. On most days, he lacks the motivation to do anything but sleep and drink and wax poetically about gloomy things. On the rare occasion, however, motivation finds him. Whether or not it sticks is another story.

Although he had laughed at and critiqued the concept of time travel, he’s found the motivation to help in some way. He volunteers to undergo stasis. Why not? ”Perhaps I’m not good for much, but I have been told that I am an excellent sleeper,” he had joked before entering the pod.

When dreams, it’s of his friends, all crowded together in the small back room of a cafe lit by candles. There’s joking, laughter, wine, and talk of politics if you know enough about French antimonarchism to decipher it. In the corner sits Grantaire, bottle of wine in hand. It’s a familiar sight.

Suddenly, the ground shakes, an empty bottle tips over and falls to the floor, and fog begins to pool around the feet of those standing in the room. No one seems to notice but Grantaire. ]

It seems as though your talk of revolution is causing quite a stir already, my friends.

[ He looks puzzled, though, rubbing his eyes as though to will the fog away. ]

Who has placed the clouds beneath my feet tonight? I do not feel as if I’m walking on air.

[ Again, no one notices, no one responds. He may as well be on mute. ]

4. Wildcard

[ Anything! Snag me at

muttonchops or just throw something at me. ]

Wyver:

[Of course, Clementine is doing her best, using her pistol first and foremost, or perhaps something like a hammer she picks up somewhere along the way. It had come in useful back home, after all. And even if these were monsters, she figures the same sort of idea applies here. Smack or shoot them in the head. Usually preceded by letting them get close, if she was using the hammer, before kicking them in the knee or leg to make them stumble, making up for her possible lack of height with some opponents, before she slams down the hammer at their head.

But, well. When she sees the figure of Lee, she tenses and freezes up. The man that had tried to save her, kept her safe initially with the outbreak and done what he could to teach her how to survive from then on. She's already shot him back home, to spare him turning. Had he woken up during all of this and she hadn't realized? Her eyes widen, her voice soft and broken as she exclaims, her weapon lowering.]

Lee.....?

Olympia:

[Clementine is eventually separated, forced to deal with the apparition that wore his face. It hasn't exactly helped calm her any. If anything, the opposite. She's furious that something, or someone, would do that. Play against her ache of missing him. Her guilt.

Clementine's fear -- losing more people she cares about, watching them turn and having to kill them to spare them the fate of turning into a walker, or being bitten herself, was probably obvious. Given she had talked about it on the network and all. And mostly, she just wants to get out of here. To make Lee's sacrifice in getting bitten looking for her, to make his death mean something, she has to survive. And she has to, to get back to AJ back home.

So if her fears are being transferred to someone else she is with at the time? Well, have fun seeing walkers? And being terrified of one of them biting you.]

Ark of the Woken:

[For all that she learned how to drive, that was....quite different, handling a car in comparison to this. Piloting a ship and all. But mostly, Clementine is more nervous about the pods, the people still sleeping during all of this and what might happen to them. If she messes this up and accidentally messes with the life support somehow, with that device....

She doesn't want to think about it. Let alone what it might mean if others from her home were to actually die here. Walkers would only add to this chaos as it was. Still, she bites her lip, hands shaking from her nerves even as she tries to keep them steady.]

I've never done this before....I hope it's right.

[As for the potential memories with this prompt, there's mostly trauma, because TWD but. If anyone wants to plot or wants to start with a specific memory to see of Clementine's, for for it.]

Edited 2019-01-17 06:09 (UTC)

OLYMPIA / THE FOG

[ to say that the fog is unpleasant is an understatement, but thomas nightingale is quite good at those. he's also quite good at doing what needs to be done regardless of his own feelings on the matter. after the war, his sense of responsibility (and the stubbornness he's inherited from his mother) had been the only thing to keep him going, to keep him functioning in the wake of staggering loss.

surely, going back into the fog after he's escorted empress simwe out of it to ensure that others will make it out as well will not be worse than that.

it isn't, not precisely —but the fog reminds him of it. everything that has been happening reminds him of it. he's survived the war and he's remained in the folly after all the other wizards had died or broken their staves. he's survived old age and he's survived the storm.

what if he survives this, too? what if he does, and loses everything, everyone all over again? —he does not know how he could bear it another time.

the only way forward is through, and so he pushes onward, seeking to ensure that his fears do not come to pass. with every step, they grow more pronounced, but he focuses on maintaining a steady werelight in front of him, palm held out and a ball of light glowing above it, illuminating the fog and announcing his position to anyone who might be seeking a way out, help, or just human company. ]

THE ARK OF THE WOKEN

[ when he'd first woken up, the thought of peter and molly had pushed nightingale to learn more about this planet and its people, to get involved, to find work and make a home of sorts. he hadn't been able to stand the thought of molly waking up and having no place to go. he hadn't been able to stand the thought of peter asking him questions and having to admit that he had none of the answers this time.

neither peter nor molly had woken up. maybe they never will, but still he is unable to stand the thought of losing them entirely. so he goes up to the station. the target are those who have woken before and he does his best to wire the devices he's been given onto the pods of a number of individuals he knows have been awake. (john watson. eggsy. clark kent.)

he also wires it to the pods of peter and molly. getting five pods onto one of the ships requires help, and the ships require two pilots. he's done this before. shared his mind with someone in this way before. he knows what to expect and his control is good, but with everything that has been happening as of late, it is frayed. he is frayed.

his co-pilot will get a sense of worry and bone-deep exhaustion, of resignation warring with determination and strength. ]

WILDCARD

[ ooc; hit me up for something else or write your own starter, check in with nightingale in his inbox, w/e. also if someone's already "saved" the pods or john, eggsy and clark or was planning on doing it, lmk and we can handwavily solve problems or have them work together or w/e i'm easy ]

WYVER/THE FRONTLINES

[ she's had to leave lucy the dragon and dorian (ii) the kinkajou behind. dutch hates the thought of it. she didn't choose to have those animals in her life, but they've been part of it regardless. she may have never said the words to them, anything i get you into, i'll get you out of but she still feels like she's let them down.

not just them, really.

so dutch does what she does best with emotions like that: she tries to turn them into anger. tries to shove the pain somewhere deep and untouchable and fights instead because it's what she knows, because it's what she's good at, because khlyen forged her into a weapon.

from the edges of the fray to the thick of it and back, dutch is there with gun and knives, shooting and stabbing, twirling and kicking and punching. it's no use, the monsters keep coming back —and soon before long, they stop looking like monsters and start looking like people.

like johnny and ~~bruce wayne~~alan foster, like rhys or alvis or dorian or byerly or randel. people who've been awake and who aren't anymore. ]

You're not real. [ dutch tells them and ] How dare you use his face? [ she uses it to fuel her anger, for the most part.

every now and again, though, she slows. comes dangerously close to stopping to fight, to quieting down, to listening to the part of her heart that tells her to go with johnny. to trust him again. but it isn't johnny, is it? it can't be.

fight by her side, drag her away from the ghosts of el nysa's past or let her drag you from the centre where fusion is a real danger. ]

THE WAY TO NADRIL

[ dutch is tired. it's a physical thing, of course, because fighting the way she does takes its toll on her body, but more than that, it's mental. it's emotional. there's only so long she can be well and truly angry before it takes its toll as well, before it turns into something else.

she doesn't have a bottle of whiskey on her to drown out what follows, so on the way to nadril, she grows more quiet. her gaze a little less sharp. they weren't real, she tells herself, but she misses johnny so much it turns into a physical ache at the centre of her chest. she misses alan. she misses —she shoves the thought of them all away, but it's still written into the lines of her shoulders, her face. ]

Think they're gonna wake up again?

INITIATING DRIFT

[ it takes two to tango, and it takes two to pilot one of these ships. they don't have much time and dutch isn't a big fan of letting anyone into her head (it's not a nice place), but there are more important things than her privacy right now.

like getting johnny's pod back, and those of others she's once considered friends. family, in some cases, though she'd never quite verbalised the sentiment. ]

Just follow my lead. [ she tells her co-pilot. piloting a ship's easy. navigating the minefield of her emotional landscape? not so much. ]

WILDCARD

[ hit me up for something else, check in on dutch in her inbox or w/e, come at me!! ]

❚❚❚❚❚ i. between olympia + nadril

[ It's no surprise, really, that Steve Rogers takes the long road ahead to Nadril once he and as many people as he can wrangle get through the fog that plagues Olympia. It's not exactly the most ideal of ways to return to the planet, but he can't say he's surprised about anything that's happened since he'd woken up either. It's almost comforting, knowing that waking up means he's still got a purpose here; he's still needed; he can still do something.

With nothing but the clothes on his back, Steve puts his renewed sense of energy to good use. He figures out fairly quickly why everything appears to be in chaos and he fills in the gaps of time that he'd lost here, seeking out the familiar faces among those on the road. Stasis had been ... well, it's something he just hasn't had the time to think about, not yet. Between the panicked cries of Olympians in need of help and some of his own personal close calls with haunting memories long past, he'd been kept busy. The road ahead should provide him with a little bit of time and the opportunity to stretch his legs after being confined to a pod for several days.

He's back now, anyway, and that's something he's gonna have to accept. He remembers things differently, a fact that checks out, having known a number of people who had gone through a similar experience. Two years, he recalls. Two years have passed in his mind, and he remembers clear as day that Earth had been under a very real, very universal threat. Thanos was collecting the Infinity Stones and one of them was embedded into the fabric that kept one of his ... comrades (what do you even call someone -- something -- like Vision?) alive. He'd been in the middle of a battle, standing alongside T'Challa and Bucky ... Bucky.

He looks pensive but alert, determined to get these people safely to the north. His beard is trimmed neatly, his hair is swept back, and he's in a uniform of sorts - just not the standard-issue Royal Guard kind. He'll be on his own during the journey, so feel free to stop him to chat. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ ii. nadril

[ The final push into Nadril is ... challenging at best. His arms have scrapes and bruises, nothing serious, as he fights against ice and snow and electricity to get past the barrier into what he expects should be the same climate conditions.

He's surprised to find that the weather here is warm -- the snow melted, the skies are clearer and brighter than he remembers -- and it distracts him. It's different from what he remembers, and maybe that's not exactly a good thing. In the hour while he lingers by the border of the dome to pull Olympian citizens through, there's a shudder that ripples in the air and beneath his feet, giving renewed life and strength into the protection of the dome while it fights the storm threatening to push its way inside. It's not unlike what he'd seen in Wakanda; in fact, the resemblance is almost jarring. He has to remind himself that he's not on Earth anymore - Earth had disappeared in the Storm ... a Storm that may or may not be related, somehow, to Thanos.

When he looks up, pulling an elderly couple through the border into the city, Steve finds an echo of himself (quite literally) some paces ahead doing more or less the same. He's with a family, and he looks ragged and a little roughed up -- is that really him? -- but seems otherwise unaware that his present self is studying his past self from just an hour ago. ]

Guess I know a little of how Bucky feels now.

❚❚❚❚❚ iii. the ark of the woken

[ Steve is back in Thesa Station with a pod safely secured into the back of the small ship he'd been instructed to use to transport those in stasis to the Ark of the Woken. He's not sure how much time they've got to transport everyone safely to the new ship, not when there are thousands of pods here, but he'd been careful to keep his own judgment as unbiased as possible ... right up until he'd seen Peggy Carter's pod in line with several unfamiliar faces, waiting to be transferred.

It's like a goddamned kick to the gut, seeing her again.

He turns to glance over his shoulder, checking and re-checking to be sure that Peggy's safe. And then he turns back to you - his copilot - and gives a firm nod. They've got under twenty minutes to get to the Ark, and Steve's got no intention to waste the precious time they have for her or any pod they move. ]

You ready?

[ He sure hopes so. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ iv. wildcard

[ gimme that sweet, sweet wildcard action. hmu over discord ( spidey#2716 ) or plurk (

thwip ) to hash things out! ]

[A: Wyver (cw: body horror)]

[As much as he might protest the point, Ren has never been one to simply sit back and watch his world die around him. He'd tried to do something to stop the Storm on his own planet, and so he'll try to do the same for this one. Partially out of protection, and partially out of wrath and spite at it having managed to consume the two planets he and his friends had tried so hard to protect.

Of course, with this kind of motivation, Ren chooses to channel it into something productive - he may not be a physical fighter, but when it comes to dealing with the abominations roaming Wyver's streets, he feels not making contact might be an advantage...]

(i.)

[As it turns out, not touching the beasts isn't an advantage for as long as Ren would have liked. But he's not easy to deter from his course once he's decided on it, so he continues fighting well longer than he really should, prepared to keep going until none of these things remains within his sight.

It means chasing some of them down, and that means occasionally running across the battles of others. Particularly if he sees anyone he recognises, Ren may stop near to the scene of a recently-fought or even in-progress battle, leaning around the side of a building, fixture or other convenient object that happens to hide one side of his body. The other is visibly normal, but he does have one hand tucked behind his back as he tilts his head in a slight, but curious motion.]

Do you need an extra hand...? [There's a very subtle slur to his voice, as if his mouth is being pulled slightly the wrong way. But it's probably nothing.]

(ii.)

[Once the battle has worn on for some time longer, Ren starts to wear down more himself, and thus is doing a much sloppier job of hiding his condition as he lashes his shadowy tentacles out at another of the twisted creatures. The motion is almost predictable at this point, and Ren's just wondering if it's finally starting to get boring before one of the beasts lunges at him and he catches a flash of green eyes that are far too familiar.

His tentacles lash out again, seizing the creature in mid-air and hurling it back at such a force that it leaves a cracked-up dent in the brick wall it hits before sliding limp to the ground. Exertion bites into his bones that little bit deeper than it's done already, and his knees sink slightly as he presses a hand that's no longer a hand to his face - it's instead a tentacle, several of the shadowy things having fused into one side of his body (along with what looks like a tree branch he might have tripped on poking up around one leg). The other side is mostly untouched but for the fingers that have suffered a root-like growth into the blade of the dagger he'd been using as a secondary weapon.]

Boring...can't you even challenge me if you're going to sink that low...? [His tone is quiet and dangerous, with a delicacy that spells out a rage far greater than anyone would have seen on him in this world, but there's a hectic amusement to it that says it might be time to try and coax him off the heady fields of battle for a little while...]

--

[B: Inception]

[Eventually, Ren does make it out of Wyver and up to Nadril as he promised. It sounds like it's the most likely place to seek out a solution to the root cause of the problem, and it's not as if they have a lot of options right now. Nurray has been reliable the times he's worked with her, so in terms of people to throw his lot in with, he could definitely do worse.

In the end, without engineering skills to lend to the effort to complete the time machine, Ren chooses to be one of the ones supervising the testing of the stasis units. He's nothing if not curious, and while nobody mentioned that little detail about the dreams upfront, it doesn't take him long to run into it.

Thank any gods there are left that he's seen far weirder than this before, because any of those who submitted to be put to sleep to test the pods may suddenly find a distracted-looking man with long red hair peering around their dream environment before turning his attention to them when they get close enough, a bright smile on his face.]

Oh, hello. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere...can you help me out a little?

--

[C: A Simpler Time]

[When it ends, Ren resolves himself to be there to see it. He has to be in Nadril anyway, but the preparations have been done. If it works, it works, and if it doesn't, then he might as well die seeing the spectacle of it all and with his head held high. As Thesa and Alria collide, a harsh grimace crosses his face for just a moment before he smooths it over again - he'd avoided the Ark in full knowledge he would've been ready to leave people who would be at risk not being moved in favour of trying to save those he knew who'd never woken anyway. Best not to give himself the temptation in the first place, when it's just another blame to add to the pile forcing himself to leave them up there.

Still, he faces down the end of this world with an unerring calm, as if this is a sight he's seen more times than just the one before when it came to take his world. Perhaps he's confident the plan will succeed. Perhaps it's something else. Either way, he eyes the approaching calamity as if daring it to come and try to sweep him away and shatter him once again.]

It's a shame I can't do it myself, but I'll be waiting to watch you burn. So don't disappoint me.

[It's all at once bitter and smiling and vicious, a paradox that only becomes more pronounced to anyone familiar with the face Ren usually prefers to wear in public. These situations are the ones where he expects exposure, so until they successfully sweep away to the past, he'll be easier to catch in more genuine (and unfortunate) moods.]

--

[D: Wildcard]

[[Feel free to contact me at

reviseleviathan for other plans! Ren's skipping over Olympia, but he'll be in Wyver and Nadril both during the course of the week.]]

► 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 (ota)

[ miller has been at this tirelessly, day after day. and yet his chipper spirit stays more or less in tact. he doesn't seem to prefer being the pilot or the co- but instead waits for his partner to choose and slides into the other seat. he stole his hat off his best friend in stasis before escorting him to safety and feels more like himself for it. it's weird, right? because sematimba is dead. then again, so is miller, just more recently. it's not like he can really judge. and he's going to be dead the second thesa goes down anyway, so he's focused. he'll make sure each and every pod is safely moved and then he's going down with (yet another) ship. should be fun, right? he's almost looking forward to it.

so when you neurally link with miller, there's an impending sense of dread and doom - sure, but also of peace. a deep inner calm. he already died once in an eerily similar way, he's not scared to do it again. not if he can do some good while he's here. on his mind the most is crashing the space station eros into venus. also vague impressions of worry and regret. who ever does everything they want to in their lives? at least he got two chances to help people.

ooc: would love to link up with people and share memories so whoever picks the captain's chair in your reply i'll go with! miller is very sad and wants to die, so please be aware of that when choosing this option. ]

► 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙙 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙭 (for ashford)

[ it comes time to transport one diogo harari and he's upset. not just because of that opa tat on the kid's face either. if he were awake he'd be lecturing him, no doubt. the opa doesn't care about kids like diogo, it's all about the cause, right? his palm presses against the glass of the window just as someone comes up, is this his copilot now? he turns, the movement dropping his arm as he pastes on a smile. it's easy to smile when the world's going to hell, but it drops just as fast as he recognizes the man in front of him. they've never met, but that hardly mattered. the guy was a glorified space pirate, they had enough posters of his burned up mug back in star helix. and he'd heard whispers, in the inner quadrants, he was revered among the ranks. miller has no way of knowing that now his name is whispered that same way. ]

Klaus motherfucking Ashford, as I live and breathe. [ and he is breathing which never gets less strange. especially not as he considers for the thousandth time that maybe this is the afterlife. maybe this is his penance. but there's a lot of free-flowing alcohol for that. ] I guess it's poetic, right? Three Belters on that little ship.

[ he suspects ashford doesn't consider him a belter at all. welwala, right? he tips his hat and shrugs a shoulder. bring it on, man. ]

► 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 (for juno)

[ supposedly, this is the last day. miller watches the very last salvage get loaded up, all the pods finished yesterday and yet he remains. he doesn't have any belongings nor any connection to thesa station, and yet he seems immovable. a fixture in the observation room. he's watching the planet come closer and closer with detached interest, checking his watch every so often like he intends to lodge a complaint if he's still here after exactly 168 hours.

boots alight on the grated floor behind him and it takes him a moment to snap himself out of it, though he waits for the other man's approach rather than signaling to juno that he's noticed him. only once they're side by side, a shoulder's width between them, will he turn and address his fellow detective. ]

Only room for one left on this barge, partner.

[ ooc: feel free to get at me for a personalized prompt or to plot something after miller makes it down to the station. i'm hotdog#0520 on disco or you can pm! ]

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

𝐚. 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[Rocket offered his place to anyone who came out of stasis during this shit or anyone who just didn't have a safe place to stay while things were getting sorted out. As of right now, he's basically allowing contained looting of the place's stores, including food, tools, and assorted bits and bobs that don't belong to him or TJ. Rocket took any of the personal items Peter, Gamora, and Mantis left behind. The rest is mostly junk, but some of these newbies don't have anything to pack up. They might as well have something to shove in their bags.]

We're operating under the assumption that literally none of this will be here when we get back, so take whatever you want.

𝐛. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐱

[Possibly losing the mansion is less of a pain in the ass (too many bad memories), but the Killbox is Rocket's baby. He paces it grimly as the people who often frequent it as either workers or patrons take whatever can be easily carried and Rocket is forced to pace around some of his bigger projects like he's saying goodbye to a child.]

I could've blown up another fucking dragon with this thing. [He pats a large, half-constructed thing with a lot of questionable parts to it.] If I ever found the right powersource that is. Too bad.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐜. 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲

[Rocket doesn't wield his usual gun against the monstrosities sent by the Storm. He's out here in Wyver colors, wielding a hand crossbow with incinderary bolts. If he's going down like this, then he's going down protecting the place he called home for so long.

Easier said than done. Most of the creatures just look like things he's killed on various planets, but after awhile they start getting twisted and he can see creatures that are tortured, mangled and covered in exposed mechanical parts and wiring. Rabbits, otters, even a walrus... They're not even true monsters, but they're furious and red-eyed, and as a pale otter with staples across its forehead runs at him on two legs tries to slash at him with claws and teeth, he wallops it hard with his crossbow and watches it go limp. The sight startles him into a stupor that he can't afford to be in right now.]

No... No. STOP FIGHTING THEM. [He snaps at the people nearby, but to no avail. His partners don't have the same hang-ups he does.] They don't know what they're doing!

𝐝. 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

[The strange mishmashed creatures that seem to be horrible amalgamations of things from his twisted past eventually ebb, but what comes next isn't much better. Lined up as if they're prepared for a firing squad, he can see dozens of people who have left him here alone opening their arms in unison and looking up at the horrific skies above. Gamora, Quill, Mantis, Prompto, Richie... Even Ammy, wagging her tail and looking disappointed at him. Rocket's had to put the crossbow away in favor of his rifle because he's run out of bolts, but even though his fingers itch to pull the trigger, he can't do it.

That Witch had it all wrong, they say in a discordant harmony. Rocket feels bile rise in his throat and he looks over at whoever is standing near him with a desperate expression.] What if they're right?

𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩

[Rocket watches the horrific light show with the impassiveness of someone who has been aware of this happening to other planets, even if it's never happened to one he couldn't flee. He's not sure if any of this will work, but he's trying to make peace with it.] First there was that genocidal maniac Ronan who could've blown up Xandar with me on it... Then there was Ego tryin' to turn the whole universe into copies of himself... Then Thanos... Yeah. [He sighs.] That's way more things I survived I probably shouldn't have.

[Never mind Half-World and all those prisons. No, stick to the galaxy-destroying things he survived. This is clearly how he's meant to go out and he's avoided it three times over.]

IN OLYMPIA;

[ clarke wasn't able to make out much with her conversation with nurray in what she thought would help them make it through the storm again but one thing that was clear was that she needed to get moving because it was no longer safe in olympia. she doesn't have much with her but after packing a few supplies in her backpack she makes her way through the streets and with the fog rolling in, it starts to get increasing difficult to move onward. she doesn't let that stop her even as she can hear the panicked cries in the streets with people trying to make their way out of the city through the fog. she does her best to remain calm and help everyone else to get out as she picks up some a torch to create a brightly lit pathway but even that only seems to do so much to combat the fog]

a ) [it's hard to breathe and despite how hard she tries to fight off the panic she feels and not let the fear consume her, it happens before it even registers with her as she ends up bumping into someone or maybe she's just seeing things? possibly distracted from catching a glimpse of someone she know wandering through the fog] Ah— sorry. Are you okay?

b ) [eventually as she goes further into the fog, she only seems to become more on edge almost as if she is being watched or sometimes seeing something out of the corner of her eye that she could have sworn she saw someone she knows on top of hearing their voices calling out her name. normally she would have immediately questioned it but instead the influence of the fog is too strong and it causes her to deviate slightly from the pathway subconsciously as she starts to follow the sounds. the moment they disappear from her view, her guilt sinks in that once again she lost someone she cares about. she was too useless to do anything about it or even stop it and just like that her fears and anxieties start to overwhelm her to the point it take over her thoughts completely leaving her paralyzed to the spot so if you happen to touch her, have fun with that entire mess of feelings]

THE ARK OF THE WOKEN;

[ being back on thesa station is something that ends up being more of a priority for clarke with the majority of her friends being in stasis. their safety was no longer guaranteed and that only heightened her worries especially since they didn't have too much time to waste with the storm soon approaching again but she does what's instructed with securing the pods of her friends so they can be transported over.

clarke knew that it meant it was up to her to ensure they are all transported to the ark of the woken because she can't stand the thought the thought of losing her people again. they don't have much time and it frustrates her to no end with the uncertainty of it all and she unfortunately doesn't have too much experience with piloting the natha ships but she hoped that her copilot helping her out with this does at least.] I don't know how many trips we'll be able to make but the sooner we leave, the more pods we'll be able to bring over. Are you ready?

WILDCARD;

[choose your own adventure! if you have another scenario in mind go for it or just hit me up @

throned ]

Edited 2019-01-18 02:38 (UTC)

I. what is the storm—?

[ It's not like Jack doesn't believe everything that Nurray had to say about the danger that they're in. As skeptical as he can be, when someone tells him that something horrible is on the way, he tends to believe them. (It's good news that he usually views with uncertainty.) Hearing that something is going to happen and actually seeing the proof with one's own eyes are very different things, though.

It starts with Thesa's presence in the sky growing larger and larger, meaning that it's getting closer and closer. Then the chronic headache, something that 76 with his enhancements isn't that used to. The stress and the dull pain in his head makes him snappier than usual as the storm worsens day by day, blotting all light out of the sky.

But everything else may as well be forgotten when he catches the light show in the sky overhead, something that would have looked spectacular if he didn't know what was causing it. The stars were literally going out, exploding as they're eaten up by the Storm, and there's nothing any of them can do about it.

He's captivated in watching it, noticing there's someone at his side at a delay. He doesn't look over at them, just keeps staring up at the sky. ]

So this is it.

II. wyver — frontlines

a. the fight
[ There's no other place for 76 to be, than on the frontlines. This is what he was bred for, when it comes down to it. For all that he'd been a politician more than a soldier during much of Overwatch's heyday, a battlefield is where he's always belonged. It's something he's had to come to terms with one way or another, if only because he's never quite fit in anywhere else.

The city's in complete chaos. Plenty of people are ready to fight, but there are also panicked civilians searching for a safe haven. 76 is heading the opposite direction of most, seeking out fights where he can, and jumping in to assist other refugees who have taken up arms against this newest threat.

It's different from the other times they've had to go to battle, though. El Nysa has gotten 76 used to a wide variety of creatures the likes of which he'd never seen before, but some of the things he's spotted now are clearly not from this world. A few even looked like omnics, mechanical beasts or cyborg-like automatons.

He isn't shy about joining someone else who looks like they're in need of help, not risking the time to ask permission. This is definitely a shoot first, ask questions later sort of situation.

Alternatively, maybe he's found himself in a bind and is in need of some rescue himself. ]

b. time loop
[ To add even more confusion to the coming Storm, time seems to have already started to break down. At first 76 thinks that the strange, ghost-like figures that appear are just a repeat of the last time that they had spirits show up, an after-effect of lives lost in battle, but then he finds a few that he recognizes wandering around.

He spots one of Winston, moving around a set area in his labcoat as he tinkers with something unseen, making motions in thin air. There's no way to talk to him or catch his attention, and it doesn't take long for Jack to realize that this is a scene from the past, playing itself out here like an echo.

Ultimately, they're only distractions, the kind that could easily get him killed when there's things wanting to kill him around every corner.

All the same, he ends up entranced by one of them. It's of a man with dark hair, largely unremarkable, and all he seems to be doing is walking around and talking to someone "off-screen." Not particularly interesting, and yet 76 clearly must know whoever it is.

He might need someone to snap him out of it. ]

III. nadril

[ Some way or another, he's managed to make it out of Wyver, reclaim the stasis pods they needed to protect, and get safely across the border of Nadril. While Jack can't be sure that there weren't some people left behind, lost to the onslaught of monsters, there's no time to dwell on it. Within just a few days, Thesa Station will make contact with the planet, murdering them all.

In theory, if Nurray's plan works, it will be as if none of this happened. Not that 76 expects it to be such a simple fix.

Time travel is something that he had really only seen within Lena, and even then, that wasn't really the correct term for what she could do. On a scale like this, it seems impossible, and if it does work (which he's not convinced about), who knows what sort of repurcussions it would have?

It has "bad idea" written all over it, but it's not like they have much choice. He's grit his teeth and pushed the button on a decision he knew wouldn't end well for lack of other options before.

Either way, 76 wants to see the time machine for himself, and so he's found its location. He circles around it with a wary glance, the jacket he's wearing making him look a little overdressed for the uncharacteristically warm weather. ]

[A: Olympia]

[This isn't the first time Mikumo's dealt with twisted perception and influences that blanket entire populations, so though she's fresh to this world, only having woken immediately before all of this destruction started, she already has a sense of what she wants to do about it. After all, breaking through this sort of thing was part of her job back home.

The shape that leaps through the mist may look like a diving beast of prey in one moment and a leaping flame in the next, with the altering effects of the fog, but a voice rings out that little bit clearer through it than what stands around it. They're singing a song, and while the lyrics can't be heard clearly, some may feel that the song gives them that little bit more of an urge to succeed at whatever they're aiming for, whether that's getting out of the city or helping others. It is, also, for better or worse, much easier to track through the fog than many others are right now, especially with the shape visible leaping through the fog alongside it.]

[[Mikumo's voice has the minor ability to inspire certain feelings in the listener - it's entirely up to player discretion how much this affects anyone who tags this prompt, or if it does at all.]]

--

[B: Silent Hill]

[In her few years of existence, and what she remembers of her previous one, fear is not an emotion Mikumo has experienced very often. It's a very distinct thing when it does happen, and certainly not a feeling she enjoys, which means she can identify the creeping feeling spreading over her skin almost as soon as it begins to worsen. Crouching in the mouth of an alley with a slight huff as if she's been inconvenienced, her holographic suit projecting a rather ostentatious black and turquoise performance outfit with frilled skirt attachments and unusually formed wedge heels, Mikumo places a hand to her chest with the look of someone reluctantly admitting they recognise something.]

Ah, this again...it's a little too soon for me to be feeling fear, isn't it?

[That said, if she sees another form through the fog, she'll call out more clearly despite the tightness in her chest.] What is it you're feeling right now?

--

[C: Nadril]

[Mikumo had seen Nadril when she initially descended from the station, but it wasn't in this state of organised chaos. She recognises the look from her work, watching military operation in the face of sudden and desperate circumstances, but that doesn't make it any more of a welcome sight. If she's only just woken up here herself, she wants the opportunity for her friends to wake up so she can sing with them again.

After everything, is that really too much to ask?

But for now, she's heard Nadril needs volunteers to enter stasis to test their systems, so here she is, settled on the side of a stasis pod and brushing her hands over it as if it's some kind of amusing novelty.]

So, how is it this is done? I'll be worried if nobody here knows what they're doing.

[[This is open to either other stasis volunteers or those doing the "Inception" plot role.]]

--

[D: Wildcard]

[[Feel free to hit me up at

reviseleviathan for other ideas!]]

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QUESTIONS

ESCORT MISSION: SIMWE | closed to Thomas Nightingale

ESCORT MISSION: SHANRIAN | closed to TJ

ESCORT MISSION: SHENYA | closed to Genjo Sanzo

MOLLYMAUK TEALEAF | OTA

Theon Greyjoy | A Song of Ice and Fire/GoT