april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

[beleos]

THE BEGINNING

Summertime in Springstar has been on its way out, heralding the arrival of fall; winter has likewise given way to spring in Highstorm - at least, according to the calendar. Yet there is an unseasonable bite on the breeze - one growing as frigid as the mood among Meris and Zenites in their cities. Between Alenroux’s occupation and talk of ‘the Blight,’ worries have been on the lips of the citizens with increasing frequency - and with good reason. The reports of plant life dying, of objects crumbling, of people whose bodies are deteriorating are dominating the rumor mills and local papers.

Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.

After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yima’s manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an ‘incident’ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterward…

The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasn’t just about the Blight anymore.

Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.

SPRINGSTAR: THE ROOT OF THE ISSUE

Day by day, changes unfold that render the city increasingly dangerous...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Tree in Heliopolis. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

• GROWTH: Contrary to the Blight’s normal behaviors, some people and things around clusters of vines or leaves can experience a burst of vitality, growth, and splendor as if transforming to beyond peak condition. In a normal citizen, this may result in an almost manic level of energy, reckless behaviors, and aggression. In objects, they become more durable and efficient, but dangerously so - for example, a stovetop cooks faster but burns uncontrollably hot. In plant life, this results in overgrowth that can overwhelm and choke nearby flora, objects, or even people. Then, they burn out an hour after exposure and immediately succumb to a dire state of Blighted.


• CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

• REGRESSION: NPC’s in these areas will appear to freeze in time once a Bearer has breached the pocket’s radius but appear normal from the outside. Time within has halted at the point the pocket manifested ( typically covering an area like a city street or inside a single large building that sees regular use ). Objects can be freely manipulated but will not fall if thrown, etc.
  • The pocket cannot be left until the Bearer has achieved their objective. Attempting to exit the way they entered, they’ll run into an unseen barrier that is painful to the touch, a sensation of frigidity that travels to their Shard.
  • Their goal will be to locate a past version of themselves hidden from immediate view. This past version of themselves can be from any point in their lives but must be from a moment when they felt extremely vulnerable, isolated, wounded, or fearful.
  • Once finding this past version, they will feel the compulsion to either find a way to reassure their past selves somehow or kill them. Whether it is the Bearer themselves who performs these acts or another Bearer in their company does it for them, as long as their past selves are pacified enough ( to player satisfaction ) or dead, they will gain immunity to the pocket and may leave. The immediate area will remain frozen, however, and the past version will be revealed to be made of roots that will shrivel and die.
  • Note: Bearers will be able to see other Bearer’s past selves, even after they have been freed. Whether the past reflections are capable of speech while functional is up to player discretion.

HIGHSTORM: THE ROOTS OF CHANGE

The snows continue to fall over the city, feeling brittle against your skin...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Great Tree in Yima’s manor. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

• SACRIFICIAL: [ CW: self-harm ] Where the roots snake and gather throughout the city, NPC’s in several locations are falling victim to the quiet, slow pulse of the flowers and their buds. They will sit and stare at the flowers for hours, unblinkingly, as their body begins to succumb to the Blight. If they are disturbed in any way - a loud noise, an attempt to move their person, etc - they will calmly look up from their worship and crack off a piece of their brittle body before returning to their reverie.
• In order to save them, a pair (or more) of Bearers must sneak up on the NPC - one using a pacifying spell given by one of the faction leaders while the other crushes the flower. If the NPC is not pacified before the flower is crushed, they will become hysterical and the Blight will rapidly consume them, causing them to perish. If they are pacified and the flower is not crushed, the spell will wear off within ten seconds with the same result.

• CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

• REFLECTIONS: NPC’s in these pockets are moving in surreal blurs, pieces of them moving forward as others move backward, some changing as if time were rapidly passing as others remain frozen still. The Bearers’ surroundings are distorted as if reflecting multiple realities simultaneously.
  • Their goal will be to locate a tall standing mirror situated alone in the center of the time pocket’s radius. The Bearer who first touches their reflection ( henceforth called “mirror-Bearer” ) will cause the world inside the pocket to suddenly stop, reflecting a comforting environment they have fond or pleasant associations with. The mirror will be gone.
• Something or someone the mirror-Bearer highly values, deeply misses, or sees as imperative to their character, goals, or desires will be present. If they make contact with this object or person, the Time Pocket loops and sends them back to searching for the mirror - but they will have no memory of this occurring. Their partner, however, will recall everything.
• Both Bearers will be released if five loops occur without the mirror-Bearer being stopped from causing the loop or if the mirror-Bearer is stopped from reaching their goal for five minutes ( willingly or otherwise ). The longer they refuse to make contact with this object or person, the more tempting and dire the need becomes inside of them.
• Once the Bearers are released, the Time Pocket disappears. If they manage to avoid contact with the temptation inside the Pocket, the roots and flowers in this area will be withered and dying, buying the NPC’s and buildings in this location some time. Otherwise, they will be thriving and dangerously blooming.
• Note: the mirror will not respond to the non-mirror-Bearer once it has been touched the first time.

ENTREE-TING HELP

The Tree of Life is in danger, and you know it. Both Yima and Cyrus have directed all Bearers who might listen to increase visitation to the Tree and monitor it for signs of the Blight - of its leaves changing color, of any frostbitten bark, of its roots withering.

And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.

But you cannot understand...

Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.

You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.

When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.

MISC NOTES

• Bearers start with immunity to the Blight. They will not succumb to the effects of the Blight even if they handle the vines and flowers directly without precautions or care.
• The above effects will occur in small clusters and are not yet spread city-wide during phase one. The escalation of frequency characters will come across problematic clusters or Time Pockets will be slow building.
• For context, it takes about a month from infection to death or dissolution for the average person or object to succumb to the Blight. By the 21st, it will be three days to a week.
• Bearers will be directed by Cetina or Kathova to make efforts to protect the civilians and investigate the manifesting changes around both cities. Both factions are working on their own methods to attempt to counteract the Blight, but neither has produced a failsafe solution.
• The roots will remain mostly outdoors, for the most part, these first two weeks.
• Tensions will slowly ramp up in Alenroux, and there are checkpoints for any non-PC visitors to screen for signs of infection.
• Player characters who die inside the Time Pockets are dead and need their Shards brought to the Tree of Life for revival.
• HAVE FUN!! ♥

CODING

Comments

QUESTIONS

[beleos]

[bakedapple]

Hello!!! Okay so when you say that Bearers "start" with immunity to the Blight, do you mean characters are completely immune for this first part of the event?

[diversionist]

Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.

is this all bearers, or just those harmonized?

Akua Sahelian | Iconoclast | Meridian

[wolof]

SPRINGSTAR
Regression ✦ Lost

[ As the weather begins to chill, as Springstar starts to feel the effects of the slowly changing seasons, at first, it is expected, from what she'd read about their cycles. Normal. The chill takes hold quickly, and the roots are everywhere. They climb buildings, even make their way to her property, and as the ice takes hold, those crystalline blossoms, Akua thinks of another type of blossom -- the ones she'd seen on the Scorching Isles.

She does not bother to make effort to save those who are wild and free from the burst of growth that found its way to the city, and in fact, it is dodging a wild and excitable individual on the streets, probably entranced by her rich outfit, or the fact that she didn't seem to be filled with such energy -- that she takes a step down an alley, and finds --

It is all still. There is no movement, and the first sign of trouble is the child with a pile of leaves, having just tossed them in the air, but... the leaves themselves are still there. Everything, everything is still. Silent. She can hear her own breath, and the click, click of her heels on the stone ground, but there is nothing else. She turned her head, arched her neck, tried to locate, and find some hint as to what was going on. She had identified time magic in Aetós's bunker. Could it be that she could see this as well? Her eyes narrowed, and she moved down the alley, closer to the end, where she heard... heavy breathing, and -- ]

Hello? Is someone there? [ Whether she finds her own, or someone else is up to whomever else is within the bubble with her. ]

HIGHSTORM
Reflection ✦ Found

[ Though she spent much of her time in Springstar, focused on that location, on her home, on maintaining order, or perhaps trying to find a way to alter the course of the roots through the city -- to little success -- it's Highstorm where the best collection of books are. She had intended to to go to the Tomes, though she had heard that Highstorm was no better than Springstar. Her intention had been to find some books of research, perhaps if there were some on the Blight, or something else? Herbology and other such practices weren't her specialty, and yet... The longer it went on, the more she realized that she had to do something -- otherwise there might not be much left in Springstar. It may be Selfish -- focused on the purpose, rather than the people -- but while she could help them, her focus was on the goal. These were not her people, not Praesi, and therefore, she had little... care for their struggle. Evidenced by how she side-stepped one of the figures posed before a flower.

They would either find their way out, or they wouldn't, but Akua could not spend all of her time helping them, when there were other ways to deal with this issue. Perhaps, if the Blight could be controlled, she thought, it could be utilized better. If they could focus it on one island, rather than the other? Could it be utilized in such a way? Could she find a way to manipulate it? If magic could do so, she thinks she could.

Though, as she stepped along the path to the tomes, something seemed -- off? -- a blur of motion at the edge of her sight. When she tries to focus on it, she can't quite make it out, and instead she just simply -- She narrowed her eyes, and tipped her head, as if she was trying to discern a kaleidoscope before her. She couldn't make anything out -- was someone moving? Were they still? She couldn't tell. Her lips pursed, she stepped forward, determined. This would have to be like the others in Springstar, right?

She thinks that, until she sees the mirror.

She does not touch it, but leaned forward, as if there would be a mystery unlocked by examining it. ]

This is different.

[ It would be a shame if someone came by and touched it, while she's trying to examine it, wouldn't it? ]

[ Wildcards are always welcome! I tried to leave these open to either scenario for both possibilities per city, but if you want to plot something out, just hmu on plurk or discord! Akua also has a new power that may be interesting to play with, if you want to go that direction! ]

highstorm

[hyperpotamous]

[ john agrees; these aren't his people to save. why should he bother? he doesn't seek atonement by filling the magic punch card of lives saved against those lost. that's not how it works.

he's here because he wanted to see how the infection was progressing, curious to know if highstorm's affinity for the zenith would impact the effects. that seems to be at least partly true, even if he doesn't understand the mechanics yet.

john doesn't disturb the poor entranced people, at least. he figured out early on not to do that. now he just sidesteps them, but in doing so, he manages to step into an unusual space, not noticing the shimmer of the "threshold" until it's too late. the strange blur of people who seem to be moving and not moving all at once is a big clue that something's changed, and it's only a matter of time before he finds his way to the heart of the space — and akua and the mirror. ]

Even for me, this feels a little too on the nose. Which is saying a lot.

[ weird mirrors appearing in the middle of cursed time pockets are probably universally a bad sign. ]

Dimitri Blaiddyd | Advocate | Meridian

[hauntedking]

Springstar

[ At first, the chill hadn't bothered him - but as the roots and vines spread and the city begins to be more and more impacted by this creeping blight, Dimitri is horrified. Although not yet widespread, he's certain that this problem needs to be handled soon or it will get out of hand. He is, as always, most worried about the people who don't seem to have any kind of immunity or who succumb to the creeping vines and the manic energy that comes with an infection. For now, investigating is all he can really do, though.

This is not a problem he can destroy with his lance.

It's one of his few reconnaissance missions, a journey through a winding residential street with tightly-packed homes - and he turns a corner into what should be a bustling maze of traffic and instead finds people frozen in mid step or conversation. A hat in the act of being doffed. Someone halfway through tripping.

It's a little surreal. He stares for a long moment, his expression downcast. ]

What on earth...? [ He can't be the only one here, can he? ]

Highstorm

[ Of course, Springstar isn't the only place afflicted and he takes time to visit the other city, even if he's not as likely to receive a warm welcome. His sense of wanting to protect people and to help overrides the concern of faction. Gathering more information on how the Zenites intend to deal with their own problem might be helpful, in any case. It's the poor souls in Highstorm who are trapped and enraptured by these flowers that grab his attention. Something needs to be done about that - so he goes seeking help from others, whether a Zenith or a Meri. ]

Do you think we can help these people? We can't just leave them to be consumed...

[ Of course, there are the time pockets as well - different from the ones in Springstar. But just as confusing and strange. Much like in Springstar, he's determined to investigate and solve whatever issues they run into... ]

Chance Meeting (for Kaeya)

[ It's during the hustle and bustle of Springstar that Dimitri thinks he spots a familiar face. He's busy with his own internal thoughts and his own worries - but the glimpse is all that he needs for his attention to shift and his mind to stutter to a bit of a halt. Someone he's been trying to track down and talk to without much success - mainly because Kaeya hasn't been returning his metaphorical calls. His stride increases and he tries to angle through the traffic on the street to get to him, hoping he isn't mistaken. Hoping that he's going to have a chance to resolve this on one way or another. ]

Kaeya!

[ His voice carries and his speed picks up, as if he's afraid that Kaeya might vanish into a back alley or simply run from him. ]

Is that you? Kaeya!

Wildcard

[ Invent your own or hmu. ]

[subsist]

[ That voice sure belongs to the last person in all of Kenos that he wants to see (or close to it), and so rather than slow down once he's been spotted, he hurries up. Picks up the pace. No need to act like he didn't hear because he wants Dimitri to know that he is trying to avoid him.

If he's caught, well, he'll just have to come up with the best excuse.

It's difficult to say where they stand after their last communication. Deep down, Kaeya knows that there are many things that will make it harder to keep the little shred of solace they managed to steal for themselves so he might as well nip it in the bud now.

(Of course, that would involve actually talking to Dimitri to make it official, but he's always been half-hearted when it comes to matters like this.) ]

amos burton | exalt | zenith

[baltimores]

i. highstorm, roots

[ He hates glowing blue shit. Call it an instinct developed from a universe he knows died well over a year ago.

And yet here it is, slowly starting to take over the city he now calls home; threatening the people he now knows to be his, that he has a responsibility to look out for. And for as much as he'd prefer to camp out in his home, create his own Blight-free oasis there and wait shit out where he doesn't have to deal with any of this, it's not like he can ignore Kathova's call to action. Ignore the fact that it's his people that need saving, and that he's someone who can, should be doing it.

One will find Amos out and about in Highstorm, inspecting the areas and the streets where pockets of people are gathering, and... still not being able to help. Waving a hand in front of their face, giving their shoulder a shake, shouting Hey! at them, literally picking them up and trying to carry them away — all of it seems to be hurting more than helping, and he's stuck.

So he looks around for the first person he can make eye contact with who still seems to be sentient, and with a wave of his hand out towards the people stupidly staring up at these stupid blue glowing stupid icy stupid plants, ] Hey. Help me out here.

[ That's it. That's the only thing they can do, so it's not a request. ]


ii. wildcard

[ want to do something with time pockets? let's plot! arii#6412 or cadiai is where to reach me to figure things out. ]

cassian —

[baltimores]

[ There are vines snaking their way towards the Starwatcher's Spire.

It's not exactly a place he'd attribute any real sentiment or emotion to, because that just isn't something he does in general, but Amos likes the observatory. There's something quaint to it, old-fashioned and out of date by his standards and yet with a very real purpose by Kenos'.

That, and he likes the people who work there. They let him poke around and they listen to him and borderline begin to understand some of the far more advanced concepts he's stumbled into talking about once or twice, and it's just.

He doesn't want this shit consuming it.

It's on a trip out to the Spire that he sees something... odd, just off of the pathway leading up to its main entrance. Like a person is... he doesn't know. Broken? Amos proceeds further away from the pathway, further and further until he's on nothing more than grass, until some kind of tall mirror seems to be blocking what should be his view of the actual Spire itself.

And hey, wait.

Doesn't he know that guy? ]

[zauneyete]

ROOTED IN PLACE ⋞ cw: self harm ⋟

[ It's getting colder, the chill sets into ones bones, and though it has been said that Highstorm should be getting warmer during this time of the year, what some call unseasonably cold weather seems like more of the same, at least to Silco. That is, until it gets colder, and colder. There are patches, within the city where it becomes brittle, and too cold. Near those roots that spread from the trees -- odd, detestable things, being someone from the fissures, Silco's often uncomfortable with this much verdant life -- and though he avoids them... the amount of people sitting near them, staring up at the flowers with single-minded adulation is odd. He doesn't mean to pass by a person, but he had been walking near one of those odd roots, the burning cherry at the end of his cigar flickering and near-dim from the chill.

Nearing a person, crouched in the cold, wearing nothing that actually protected them from the cold, Silco narrowed one eye at the person. They were entranced with the flower, and he was pretty sure that these were blighted. Though he had no love for anyone here, he didn't want the Blight to take hold before they had a chance to -- actually achieve their goal -- then what was the point of letting them rot away? Well, they could, for all he cared, but the Blight will affect them, before too long, won't they? He clamped the cigar between his teeth, before he clapped his hands together, trying to catch their attention. ]

Hey. You're in the way.

[ Discounting the fact that there was plenty of street if not sidewalk that he could sidestep them.

The individual... someone who looked frail, and small, in the cold, turned their head toward Silco, as if he had interrupted their period of supplication before the glowing, pulsing blossom. He sneered down at them, and gestured, as if to say: "well?" before the person lifted their two hands, and held a finger up, and then --

Rapidly -- firmly grasped it, and --

Snap! It didn't just break, and there was no blood or gore, the piece of flesh cracked and broke, but the piece came off cleanly, somewhere in between stone and flesh. He watched as the piece of finger fell to the ground, the edges of it crumbled like soft rock, and they turned back to their adulation, and outright ignored him. Ignored! Him! ]

Don't you ignore me -- [ He said -- a touch petulant -- and someone might want to stop him, before he kicks them in the arm, breaking off more of them. ]

REFLECT ON YOUR...

[ He should have been paying closer attention.

The odd... blur was the first sign that something was wrong. He tried to catch sight of it, and disseminate what it was. As far as he could tell, it had been -- Something? Huamn-shaped, perhaps, but that was all. His fingers slipped into his pocket, to find the blade he kept in a small pocket -- the one Sebastian had manifested for him in Highstorm so long ago, with the inscription: "Che la mia ferita sia mortale". He flicked the blade open, and slowed his step. Perhaps he should have used his invisibility, but this was Highstorm, and he felt less need to hide here, like he did if he traveled to Springstar. For no reason whatsoever.

The next time he saw a blur, he reached out, to try and catch it. It did little good, and he didn't catch it, but the further he went, the more of them they were. It isn't until he starts to notice that they aren't... really blurs, is when he starts to pay attention more. Tried to net what it was he was seeing -- but it's hard to nail it down. Was it multiple realities? Different people? They moved fast and slow, all at the same time, they moved backwards, and it's with a frustrated grunt of annoyance that he tried to stop looking at what was before him, and start trying to get away from it. Wouldn't it be easier, to leave this to the types that liked to get involved? This wasn't a place for a man like him, who did better down in the dark caves in Kowloon than he could out here --

But there's something off further that caught his eye. Down the street, a little off, that caught the light of the twin moons, though he moves at the same pace he always did -- slow but purposeful -- but the closer he gets, the more confusing it gets. One hand on a knife, the other pulled out a cigar, and he snapped the end off with a swipe of the knife, before he lit it, and closed in on the thing before him. A mirror?

It was solitary, in the middle of a roundabout in an otherwise innocuous Highstorm street. Nothing to set it apart from anything else other than the oddity of it. Was it junk? If he were in Kowloon, he'd suspect so, but that it's in Highstorm which feels closer to Piltover, than it does to a location in Kenos. As he approached, his steps slow, though they're silent on cobblestone streets, and he took another long inhale of the cigar, before he blew it out at his reflection. It stared back at him, just as he did it. He blinked a single eye, it did the same. He shrugged (and it shrugged) and it's with another tip of his head that he finally reached out, intending to rap at it, as if it would unlock something. ]

This is a waste of time.

[ He murmured -- he clearly has no clue what's going on. ]

[ All wildcards welcome! Silco probably won't be in Springstar unless we want to plot something specific! If we had plans, just hmu on plurk or Discord if you want an individual starter, or just lob something my way! I'm truly open to anything, and if you want your character to be the mirror-bearer, just go with it, I'm down to roll! ]

rooted

[muchalucha]

[ Highstorm may not be Quetzalcoatl’s city or “her” people, but she couldn’t help heading over once she’d heard what was happening to people there. Naturally, she’s happy that the Meridian aren’t affected so severely, but it doesn’t mean that Zenites deserve this. She’s tried to help one or two of the citizens already and run into precisely the same problems as Silco has. So, she’d guessed she needed help.

Unfortunately for her, the first help she finds is Silco.

Quetzalcoatl sees Silco’s back from afar as he interacts with the person and breathes out an ah as she realizes that he’s also not effected, then starts to run his way once they break off the finger. ]

Ay, wait, por favor!

[ Oh, and Silco sure is?? About to kick them?? Her expression turns to a deep frown instead, and she pulls Silco’s shoulder back to pull him away from them. Surely, he’ll have a totally normal, reasonable reaction to this. ]

Gavial | Closed starters

[kinaesthesia]

[If you'd like a thread with the croc doc, just hmu here or on discord and we can plan something out!]

Bondrewd

[kinaesthesia]

[There’s starting to be an uptick in weird rumors going around, particularly over in Springstar.

Maybe not so odd on its surface—there’s been a lot of that going on with slow, creeping threat of the Blight lurking on the fringes. Up until now, most of those stories getting passed along have been mostly the same. A patch of plants dying here, some animals behaving oddly before keeling over there. Just the natural cycle of decay, but accelerated.

But now people are telling tales of explosive growth of plant life and energetic and erratic behaviors in people and objects both out in the Meridian’s home turf.

New symptoms? That’s bad. And as invested as Gavial’s been in puzzling out what makes this temporal disease tick (and with a more official assignment to help the academy look into it), she wastes no time in scouring the sunny city for any sightings of this new surge of growth. She finds it easy enough to rope another interested party into the job with her—always best to have a helping hand with these things—and get right down to seeking out the latest of these rumors. Word is, there’s been some unusual activity over in Springstar’s residential district.

By the time Gavial and Bondrewd find their way there, they find many of the locals in a state of near panic, and it’s no wonder why; the side garden on one small apartment building has already nearly tripled in size, overtaking about half of the building in its snarl and beginning to encroach upon the nearby walkways and street.

There’s the low hum of worried locals’ murmurs as the two Shard-bearers begin their approach toward the building. Gavial comes to a halt about ten feet back from the mass of writhing plants, looking the mess of it up and down as she drops the bag full of their equipment to the ground between them. She casts a side-long glance at Bondrewd.]

Well, this is… different.

cassian andor, iconoclast, closed starters

[diversionist]

[ hmu for plotting! ]

→ jyn

[diversionist]

[ jyn hadn't been in the apartment when he got back, but he hadn't thought much of that. she isn't the kind of person to sit around and wait for him, nor would he want her to be. instead, he'd taken the opportunity to drop off his things and wash off the sweat and mud of his journey, change into a clean set of clothes. he leaves much fresher than he'd arrived, hair still damp against his scalp, and for all the size of springstar it isn't hard to find jyn.

he has some notion of her habits, for one thing. and he's still as drawn to her as the day they met, for another. he thinks sometimes he could find his way to her even from kilometers off, even blindfolded, guided by the thread that seems to bind his heart to hers.

so it's not much of a surprise to see her in the street, looking much as she had when he left. he raises a hand when he sees her, warm smile unfurling across his face. he usually saves this kind of expressiveness for when they're in private, but — even he can make exceptions. it's been too long, and he's missed her. ]

bondrewd ( stargazer ) closed starters

[dawnlord]

[ Local Zenith researcher largely immune(?) to timepockets, because he is wacky like that. ( SIGHS. ) ]

sebastian ( highstorm ).

[dawnlord]

( PRELIMINARY CWs for anatomical discussion and dissection, self-harm and death! )

What do you think, Mister Michaelis?

[ Having long since "moved past" what had occurred in the belly of Aetós's menagerie, he finds himself finally ( finally ) in the field. It has been a long span of time, preparing the laboratory he had been so generously given by his sponsor, assisted by the demon in matters pertaining to cleaning and organizing. And how fine a job he had done! It had left Bondrewd able to focus on matters of stocking materials, purchasing some preliminary equipment with his modest stipend and working on the task laid before him by Silco — identifying the elements within Shimmer, of course.

Now, he leaves his laboratory behind to observe the effects of the Blight firsthand. There is no better way to understand a threat than to witness it first hand, and he brings with him nothing less than his full attention for the matter at hand; a hulking, dark figure that prowls the streets of Highstorm and records the variety of initial tests he is performing: collecting Blighted materials cautiously, timing the spread, and, notably: examining individuals who are impacted by it. Non-Shardbearers are deeply affected. Shardbearers, he finds, are utterly immune at this point in time.

Naturally, it means he must take advantage of matters. ] It takes a matter of hours to confirm their infection. Rapid onset aging and deterioration will then claim them, it seems. Would you care to assist me? I must know the order of events, if I am to understand how to impact the Blight.

[ He definitely means to observe someone, inside and out, while they DIE TO THE BLIGHT. ]

jyn erso | iconoclast | unharmonized

[vallt]

highstorm.
[she gets a voice in her head, she ignores it. same shit, different day, and jyn thinks nothing of it as she goes about her day.

as she walks the streets of highstorm, though, she might begin to consider the slim possibility that ignoring the voice might not have been her best choice.

the first thing that makes her stop short, that might make her consider said slim possibility, is two people she encounters on a corner, staring numbly into space and continually rocking back and forth. two people who are completely unresponsive, and not for a lack of trying on her part; at first, she waves a hand in front of each of their eyes to get their attention, then she tightly grips a shoulder of each, shaking them roughly.

nothing. not even when she crouches down between them, looking into the dead, unfocused eyes of each one.

it's horrifying, and she has no idea where to go from here.

dimly, she's aware of footsteps nearby. it's enough for her to be able to shake herself out of her own stupor just enough to snap:]

Do something, [at the nearest person actually able to hear her.]


springstar.
[it isn't just in highstorm.

no, whatever this is isn't contained — and only seems to be spreading. people have taken to the streets in springstar, displaced and shivering. there isn't much anyone can do, but jyn tries to help where she can, taking children into her arms and wrapping them with whatever she can find. sometimes that's with her own jacket — which she eventually sheds completely, letting one little girl and her mother take it.

she's survived worse conditions with less, after all, and it won't be difficult to find another one.

for a while, she continues on like this. at least until —

one little girl in particular suddenly appears, with two braids and a terrified expression, clutching a lantern in her hands so tightly as if she's clinging to life itself. jyn stands still, as if frozen; her jaw is slack, and her eyes are wide, like she's seen a ghost.

maybe she has.

but for now, it seems, any way to proceed will be up to whoever happens to be standing nearby.]


wildcard.
[so this is the open option! i am very much open to plotting for closed starters with other past selves in springstar time pockets, potential mirror interactions in highstorm time pockets, and other misc ideas; feel free to hit me up on plurk at lensflares or via discord if you'd like to talk through some specifics!]

highstorm

[lockedon]

[ He doesn't visit Highstorm much anymore, but if there's anything powerful enough to overcome the growing divide between the two sides, it's the needs of the people in both cities. None of them had asked for any of this - this war, this destruction, this interruption into their livelihoods - and the fact that the atmosphere in Highstorm reminds him too keenly of a plague that had swept through another city, months and months ago, only serves to ignite his desire to do what he can to help.

The message from Cyrus is acknowledged and his pack stuffed full of necessities, and the expression on his face is even more dour than usual as he walks through the streets—and rounds a corner to a cluster of people, only one of whom is actively moving.

The woman's entreaty goes ignored for a few seconds as he stares first at her, and then at the two townspeople, circling around them once. Then, he fishes through his pack, pulling out a bundle before tossing it at her without warning. Catch! (It's a jacket, ill-fitting but warm.) ]

Put this on first. [ His voice is brisk, lacking in any particular inflection. The fewer people that freeze around here, the better. ] How much magic do you know?

[ That'll decide what role he hands over to her, if she's amenable. (Even if she isn't she'll have to take it, if she wants any chance at saving these people.) ]

lottie person ✨ iconoclast, closed starters

[oomfies]

[ if you wanna plot smth out feel free to pm or hmu over on disco!! ]

🌿 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙖𝙣

[oomfies]

[ Does she know this guy? Absolutely not. Is it going to change her mind that he’s still a valuable asset to this stupid situation everyone has found themselves in? Never.

Life was fine for a few days, for a week, in Springstar until it wasn’t, until plants started breaking through the ground and coiling into homes, over buildings (alarmingly, her building too— not by much, but enough to make her worried). They only met when she was browsing the markets for a broach, something small and inconsequential in the grand scheme, and then someone just started getting choked out by a random sentient plant and the rest is history.

Lottie leans over her purse, grabs at a face mask she’s saved for special pollen related emergencies like this. She turns to Cassian, arms loosely crossed in front of her chest as she thinks. They’re situated a little ways away from where the chaos first started, far enough to be safe from whatever the hell is happening with that plant but close enough to survey. ]

Okay, what should we do? We managed to save that lady but her stall is pretty much a bust..

[ Nevermind the fact the temperature in the space where that vine — now blatantly sitting by itself (yay), as many of the surrounding vendors are actively moving their livelihoods further down the street (boo) — is getting chillier. ]

I mean.. We can just dig it out, right?

set ( savant ) closed starters

[redsoil]

[ Coming back from a few days AWOL in the Beyond like Troy Pizza Fire Gif and being thoroughly annoyed. That's Set. ]

vash ( highstorm ).

[redsoil]

[ Upon leaving the Beyond, the first place he will end up is — naturally, Highstorm. The city is closer to him than that of Springstar, and Set immediately steps into the midst of the growing, spreading roots with a sense of fascination and annoyance. How dare the Blight reach the city? How dare it be spread beyond the Scorching Isle? With Tibbs having destroyed the Cornerstone, as far as he last recalled, either one had been made by a Shard-bearer to continue accessing the island — or, prior/during their visit to the Isle itself, someone had come along with them. Someone had spread it, to Kenos-proper. If only the Scorching Isles could have been left to perish in their Blighted state, for Ra's sake.

And then, there had been the mirror.

( There had been the mirror / there had been the mirror / the mirror / the reflection — )

In the distance, he hears the flutter of feathers, the beating of a pair of great wings. The world of cold roots and slowly-dying people has faded, replaced with the silken slide of warm sands. The sprawling desert behind them and the pale, sand-gold city of the gods before; a vast metropolis meant to be full of humans and gods alike, thriving upon the walkways of lain stone, drifting in boats along the clear, blue Nile beyond the largest structure — the temple itself. As he steps forward, there seems to be no other soul in sight.

Only the sound of wings. The flutter of a striped feather that drifts to the ground before him. In the distance, a figure alighting upon one of the high balconies of the temple, the palatial estate of the gods — ( there had been a mirror ). ]

Horus?

[ Sorry, Vash. This might be the second or so time you've had to deal with this loop, with Set. Stubborn, swift and volatile — yearning, for someone he could not truly describe what he felt towards. ]

vash the stampede ( closed starters )

[intervener]

[ hit me up on pm or discord if you want to do anything for phase 1!!! ]

▰ vander

[intervener]

[ it had been fortuitous, the way Vander and Vash ( team "Double V," if you would ) had run into one another a few days after the debriefing from Cetina, possessing a similar look in the eye - the one that spoke of their single-minded determination. Vash had spotted Vander lightly patting a young, teary-eyed girl's head in reassurance after helping her and her mother free themselves from the overgrowth that had trapped them inside their home like prisoners, and... well, that had been that. Vander had been labeled A Good Guy, and the next thing they knew -- the Bearers were getting sucked into another brewing crisis.

one of the locals was leading the pair a few houses down; this area seems to have developed a worrying amount of growth overnight, Vash notes, the vine-like roots having snakes up and over the outside of several residences like untamed weeds, beginning to sprout buds they all knew were trouble. but the breathless woman ahead of them points toward the front door of her house, already ajar; "he's in the back," she says, and the two of them can hear the sounds of someone upending wooden furniture, screaming a violent, enraged howl of rage, glass and cutlery smashing and clattering over kitchen tiles toward the rear of the house. the woman looks on the brink of tears, wringing her hands together in anxiety and flinching for every new loud smashing from inside.

"this isn't him, he isn't like this -- please don't hurt him," she begs them, trying to avoid breaking down as she looks from one man to the next. Vash reaches out to take her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before blue-green eyes wander to Vander.

he's sure he doesn't need to say it, but... they should be careful. whoever is inside... they might be dangerous -- to themselves as much as everyone else, a victim of the flower's madness. ]

dextera • meridian (exalt)

[passio]

I. i wanted to live. (SPRINGSTAR)

[ as soon as dextera heard that there was something odd regarding the flow of time in these strange pockets, he—recklessly—had begun to search for them. it’s a foolhardy hope and he knows that, but if there’s any way at all that he can reach back and find something that he’s missing…

(maybe if he knew what highstorm’s blight held for him, he would have gone there first. instead, he’s here, trapping himself and a child self he recognizes only from nightmares in this little interstice of unreality.)

there’s the flutter of a white robe, the sound of bare feet on springstar’s city pavement, as someone tries to run and hide from dextera—or perhaps the other bearer that’s followed him in. ]


II. those in need (HIGHSTORM)

[ this is a massive baroque. dextera doesn’t know what to do for these people except to kill them, and there’s nothing that would make the meridian presence here hated faster than killing people who have no concept of defense.

he’s clearly already tried to interact with this woman once. he watches from a distance now, an entire blighted hand cradled in his own. the look of panic on his face says it all—he’s afraid to approach her again, lest she take off a bigger piece, but he knows he has to do something. regardless of alignment, when another shardbearer comes close, dextera grabs them by their clothes in an act of desperation and shows them the hand before hurriedly pointing to the woman staring, dreamlike, at the pulsing flower. ]

…!

[ he doesn’t commune, but he doesn’t need to; he’s begging. ]


III. wildcard

( whatever else! if you want to do something with the time pockets for your character that dextera can stumble into, lmk and we can plot something out… or just surprise me! )

II. those in need (HIGHSTORM)

[impiety]

Yes?

[ Archangel steps forward, somewhat disappointed that Dextera did not notice him first, but the man has always been concerned with his own selfish need to save others. He glances towards those that are slowly changing and their rapt adoration to the flower. ]

Does this not look familiar to you?

[ Because this is what he felt everyone looked like when they devoted themselves to the Absolute God. But he gives a faint, small smile. ]

Shall we save them from their own happiness and delusions?

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 | 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑

[helloween]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘🫀

[ Dark has been watching the empty-eyed people gathered about that flower for some time now, having witnessed interruption, limb snapping and everything. It’s by far the oddest thing he’s seen since arriving in Kenos so far, but still not strange enough to disgust or panic him— after all, his background is one of violence, sex, and theatrics. Still, it's dangerous, and he’ll extend an arm to stop you from getting too close to the group, even cover your mouth if you dare speak too loudly. The bridge of his nose crinkles while he observes, his voice even and quiet from the sidelines. ]

Don’t walk into it. That’s nasty petrification magic.

[ And while the Shard Bearers are presently immune, Dark can’t help but suspect that things will change or adapt over time. What freaky, plot-important corruption doesn’t? The land is changing, rotting with the Blight, and he’s only been here how long to notice. ]

Who are you with?

[ He asks you but is careful not to disturb the worshippers in the distance. ]

𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃🫀

[ Lucien finds you on your way out of a building dangerously covered by vines. The two of you are hurrying, evacuating from the frozen foliage. With the searing cold licking at your ankles, it ices over like glass enough to lock up your limbs and make you fall. Lucien stops running and turns to face you, terrified to delay his own escape but also morally unable to abandon you in the cold’s wake. ]

Get up...! You have to—

[ He calls back. Seeing that you can’t, however, Lucien rushes back to you, hooking his thin arms around one of yours and trying to drag you across the floor by it. The only problem is that you’re too heavy for him, and he is a child. A puny, pipsqueak of one at that.

His shoes skid across the surface of the ground and he slips. He falls onto his rear while trying to pull you. ]

Ahh, help!

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃🫀
( ooc: Want to start a thread, but the prompts above didn't suit your character? Feel free to hit me up below with a unique starter of your own or to contact me directly to plot something out. )

so cold

[epiprocta]

[ Honestly, the situation's bad enough as is -- the indignity of eating shit on the pavement from the sudden catch of ice at his ankles is pretty damn infuriating. But even worse is when some brat comes running over like he's capable of doing anything? Still disoriented from the sudden fall, Gen only gives a brusque grunt at first when he feels that tug at his arm, but does look up with visible frustration when Lucien also spills onto the pavement. ]

-- are you fucking with me right now?!

[ At least the ridiculousness of the situation helps him fully gather his senses once more.

Gen gives a very audible and very clear click of the tongue aimed squarely at Lucien, accompanied by a disdainful stare before abruptly ... melting into the dirt, completely out of sight. And then abruptly emerging right behind where Lucien's sitting on the pavement the next moment, snagging a hand at the back of the kid's shirt on the way. He doesn't really like using his new abilities out in the open like this, but it's the quickest way he can think to free himself from the hold of that ice, so. ]

If you trip, I'm ditching you.

[ It's said at a low growl, before he starts dragging Lucien along behind him without any further warning. Better keep up, kiddo, because he sure is going to hold true to that threat. Probably. ]

eustace / closed starters

[lockedon]

[ currently have a busy month so i can't take on any more threads but i should be more free by the time part two drops! ]

ernesto.

[lockedon]

[ Neither of them are all that married to Springstar so it's not so surprising that they end up crossing paths in Highstorm when their feet lead them to the same little pocket of fragmented reality, the contrast between too much movement and no movement at all enough to give Eustace a mild headache. But he's here in Highstorm to help, and he can't do that while he's trapped in this space while time moves in erratic cartwheels around him.

So. Best get moving then, even if he's not fully sure what it is he should be moving to just yet. ]

Keep an eye open for anything out of place.

[ He sounds tired, moreso than usual, the edge to his voice unnecessarily sharp. Between Alenroux, his own personal problems, and now the Blight rearing its ugly head, his nerves are constantly wound tight around themselves. No rest for the wicked...or for any of the Shard-bearers, it seems. ]

the archivist 👁️ closed starter(s)

[eyesite]

( please feel free to reach out to me via pm, discord, or plurk (lycanthropic if you want to do something for this part of the event! )

vander:

[eyesite]

( when john had been lost in the deathless limbo of his six month long "coma," his heart and lungs stilled while his brain was a riot of activity on the hospital monitors, he had been visited by an avatar of the End. it had been a man who had previously left a statement regarding his ability to see root-like tendrils which snaked through the streets of London — these pulsing limbs always terminated embedded within the body of a person in suspended animation as they went about their every day life, and they had always foretold that individuals impending death. a tendril might indicate the place of a terminal cancer or a sudden brain hemorrhage; it might encircle the neck of someone who might soon find themselves suffocated or drowned. eventually he began to see these roots even when awake, and no matter what he did to try to warn their victims, he could never save them from the death that fast approached.

for the End, Terminus, the Fear of the inevitable death and cessation of all things, is slow, patient, and inexorable — a marked change in behavior from many of the other Dread Powers, but why would it be any other way when it always got what it needed in the end?

it's oliver banks that he can't help but think of when the roots of the great tree planted near yima's manor break free and begin to reach through the streets as free as rumor and fear of the impending spread of the Blight had weeks before. and he especially thinks of the first statement he'd given regarding his dreams when he stumbles into one of the time pockets in the tangled nest of backstreets in springstar. john had initially been looking into the roots in highstorm, of course, but soon he had traveled to the other city to see what he situation there was. much the same — which wasn't exactly a comfort, was it? he had been searching for someone, anyone, to discuss the situation with when he'd crossed over into a place where the air felt inert and dead in his lungs — where people stood about frozen mid-action of whatever they had been before time had distorted around them.

at least there is no pulsing tendril reaching into each of those bodies. this doesn't mean — it doesn't necessarily have to mean anything.

several of the buildings along the narrow side-street he's on now have broad gates and doors thrown open to the outside, displaying a variety of wares to whoever might travel past. john hesitates for just a moment before sidling along a vendor and potential customer where they stand frozen in discussion over what looks like hand-made pottery. glancing between the moment, he frowns and resolves to take a small glazed mug from the collection on the table, inspecting it in his hand for a moment before he purposefully drops it.

or, at least, he tries. it remains suspended in mid-air where he releases it.

this makes him particularly surprised to hear the sound of approaching footsteps; he turns with alarm wild in his wide eyes, though that is subdued significantly once he sees who the towering figure belongs to. ) —Vander? ( surprise continues to buzz in his veins, but it's a relief to see the man, especially given what had happened just a few weeks ago. he'd heard that the rescue had been successful, but he'd been in a different part of aetos' facility... ) Good Lord, man, it's been a few weeks since — are you alright? ( he probably should have reached out to ask much earlier, but with everything happening in alenroux and with the Blight and all... ) I, ah - I wish we were meeting again under better circumstances...

( he's momentarily forgotten about the mug, but the piece of pottery is perfectly visible next to him, where it hovers in thin air. )

Gray | Meridian | Advocate

[gravings]

A. Springstar — Regression

[ Having witnessed the frenzy of Springstar in the fleeting times she's returned to the city, and having experienced a few "time bubbles" already, Gray knew her turn would come eventually. The strangeness of the city has been too heavy for her to hope to escape involvement. So when she happens to step into a new pocket of stillness and sharpens her hearing to catch the suppressed sobs of a child nearby, she has a strong hunch she knows who it is.

It's no trouble locating the child. Actually facing her is a different matter, which is why Gray ends up stalling outside the building the child has taken refuge in, a small bookstore with its clerk frozen with an awkward expression in the window. Gray stands outside the door as if about to enter, her hand resting on the doorknob, but she's nearly as still as the store clerk... ]

B. Springstar — Growth

[ The people of Springstar are getting a little stir-crazy, and so is Slow Dancer. The already volatile horse is even more ornery than usual within the confines of Gray's backyard, so Gray can think of no other solution but to give the old horse free rein (so to speak) and take her out to the boundless running grounds of Alenroux. Of course, that means Slow Dancer will have to get there first...

Five horse bite victims later, Gray is beginning to worry that Slow Dancer will become wanted by the Springstar P.D. ]

Slow Dancer! Please, we're almost at the Cornerstone...

[ The horse understands her and Gray knows it, but perhaps out of stubbornness pretends not to hear. Gray can tell because Slow Dancer almost immediately rounds on the nearest person who (apparently) looks at her the wrong way and begins to charge the poor soul with a mean look in her eye... ]

Look out!

[ Will Gray's warning save someone or will we see Horse Bite Victim #6?? ]

C. Alenroux — Sleepy

[ After a productive day of running around and trampling and kicking monsters in the face, Slow Dancer's keyed-up mood seems to have finally wound itself down... for now. On the other hand, Gray is exhausted from sprinting after Slow Dancer and watching her trample and kick things in the face, and it's with utmost gratitude that she procures some of the nightly slop from the Meridian troops and settles down for supper. With the warmth of the camp and the pleasant hum of the evening routine, before Gray knows it, she's beginning to nod off over her bowl of stew. She droops sideways until her hooded head taps the person sitting next to her...

Which wakes her right up, and she jolts upright with an apologetic look askance. ]

S-Sorry.

[ Nearby, Slow Dancer munches on some grass and watches enigmatically. ]

D. Wildcard

[ For anything in-between or Other!! PM me, message me on Discord, or honestly just throw anything at me and I will roll with it! ]

a

[uproared]

[ Mordred visits Springstar with surprising regularity, for someone whose allegiance lies elsewhere. It's the Coliseum that draws her in — not that she's adverse to picking fights whenever and wherever she can find them, but something about the endorsed, organized chaos of an arena puts her in a particularly good mood afterward.

Today is different. There's a creeping sense of despair that has her on edge, anticipating a surprise attack at any moment. When she walks into her first time bubble, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up even before she realizes that everything (and everyone) around her is frozen... including a very familiar face (well, hood) outside the bookstore.

A second later she's clad in her armour, and barely another passes before she's standing behind Gray and shaking her by the shoulder. Enjoy the jumpscare. ]

Snap out of it, idiot mouse. You'd be a sittin' duck for any Zenith like this.

link 🍎 meridian, savant

[bakedapple]

[ closed starters, hmu if you want to do anything with link <3 ]

for voryn

[bakedapple]

[ The pavement is cold. So cold, Link thinks to himself, as he slumps on his knees in the middle of the road. Is it from the increasingly cold weather, or is this some effect of time being stopped? Movement is heat, and stillness is cold, and he's never been anywhere more still than the inside of these "pockets" are.

This isn't the first one he's stumbled into. Link already knows how this has to go. But... he's tired. Both literally, physically... but metaphorically, too. Every time, he's had to find the same past version of himself. Every time, he has resorted to... to putting it out of its misery.

He knows he has to get up. If he doesn't find his double, he'll be stuck in here. And it's cold. No person can survive in one of these cursed bubbles forever.

With a deep, heavy, anguished sigh, Link slowly gets up. He shakes out his arms and legs, trying to psyche himself up, before the cold forces him to cross his arms and stave off a shiver. ]

Hello? Is anyone else in here? [ The chill makes it hard to yell as loud as he might otherwise be able to, but he tries. ] Helloooo...!

mamoru hijikata / meridian / iconoclast

[prizeneck]

Grandma, my sleep is narrow [ARRIVAL | MERIDIAN]

[Great, what did he miss?

Inflamed, his bones begging for respite, a break, something, his throat made of gravel even as he breathed. After a mission in The Beyond, Mamoru felt ragged, his eyelids felt rough—rougher than usual— and he mentally thanked the colder air in Springstar that brushed across the highs of his cheeks, right under the frames of his shades. The mission had been… who knows (yet), but aside from a hostile environment, a monstrous amalgam of fauna and flora, and herding cats as a whole, he felt he bears the lungs of a 60-year-old chain-smoker.

The message rings clear, too clear, and it's when the warning signs blare again. No rest for the wicked; he's too tired not to fall into clichés, anyway.

But first things first. He walks a perimeter around Meridian's housing facilities and runs a mental tally of which rooms had been vacant before he left. Going in and across the hallways with the end goal of entering one of them for a quick shower and leaving again, definitely not in the mood to be caught to chat or socialize.

Alas, he's known for having shit luck and can probably find someone on the way there.

Either that or headed to fetch supplies - sword maintenance oils and taking care of the blade he used, a thin, razor-like thing that he's been using. He's running on fumes, but really, when isn't he?]

Grandma, there's air beneath my bed [ROOTS | BOTH SPRINGSTAR & HIGHSTORM]

[He can tell straight away that something is wrong.

While his shades do provide him with a rendition of sight, the thrum of the earth under him, the breath of those around him, they've guided him into fight or flight or freeze, led him to actions and reactions even before shrapnel and a promise of a mercy kill touched his eyes. Like this, his perception is distant — how ironic that he had wished to be apart from humanity only for fate to shut the windows of what would allow him to experience that connection more fully. The cities' whispers and bumbles worked better than any thermometer.

And now, it's reaching a boiling point despite the actual chill. One city threatens to singe while the other to whelm. Because of this, he helps out, quickly, swiftly, those who are trying to rescue any citizen or themselves.]

Grandma, the water is rising [ROOTS | REGRESSION cw: uh. gross.]

[In the grocery shop that he is, surrounded by the frozen grimaces of the citizens in Springstar that were unaware, Mamoru has his ears peeled.

He hears something crawling, wet, drenched, beyond the next aisles. It's moving attentively, as though afraid and vulnerable. The scent of blood is thick, as well as something else, earthy, burnt. Gunpowder, plastic, flesh.]

Stay still. [It's a very quiet order, the whisper seemed only to dislodge itself from Mamoru's throat by force.]

Grandma, my hands have wandered [WILDCARD]

[ooc: Super open to write up closed starters or feel free to hit me up with something entirely different or a cocktail of things. It's v possible for this guy to also step into Highstorm because of [REDACTED] so feel free to meet him there. Happy to also do time loop shenanigans, I'm ez. <3 There's also humblebrag and jackuzis#4761 if you need to ask/discuss anything. Grabby hands. ]

roots regression

[muchalucha]

[ As soon as time had stopped, Quetzalcoatl had summoned her sword near reflexively. This is her first time encountering one of these pockets, but she’s heard of them at this point, though only partially. Hearing about places where time simply seems to stop is hard to miss, but those half-heard rumors hadn’t come with any further explanation than that. So, it’s best to be cautious.

However, the moment that her sword appears, the smell also hits her, and Quetzalcoatl makes a light, discontent noise. Most of them are perfectly familiar to her—blood and earth, something burned and something flesh—but the ones that she doesn’t identify as readily are more perplexing when all mixed together. Her brow knits together in confusion, but she starts to lift her sword from her side when Mamoru speaks. ]

Oh, you’re not—

[ Frozen, obviously, so she stops. She nods with an affirmative noise. Considering his quiet and the intensity of the order, she’ll trust him to take the lead. ]

gen ( closed starters )

[epiprocta]

[ just closed starters for this part of the event, but please feel free to hit me up through PMs, discord or plurk if you'd like to do anything! ]

for ATSUMU

[epiprocta]

[ He thinks he's having some sort of bizarre dream, at first. Because yeah, he'd heard about the encroaching blight and the overgrowth of greenery but, like, whatever. None of that was supposed to apply to him, not really. So when he drowsily turns the corner and steps into the familiar alleyway that he takes as his usual shortcut to the Viomichanikós District, he sure doesn't expect to run face-first into some random person frozen in mid-step like a mannequin.

At least the shock immediately chases away whatever tendrils of sleep had been clinging to him.

It takes Gen a few moments to realize that something's afoot (during which he rudely shoves aside the frozen man to lean against the nearby wall so he's not clogging up the alleyway), then a few moments more to attempt simply leaving the scene. No dice, of course. All that earns him in a fabulously icy chill that immediately tells him a quick retreat isn't viable. ]

Shit.

[ So it's an irate mutter that he lets loose between huffed breaths as Gen peers through the alleyway, seeking some hint of how to escape this predicament.

Except he sure wasn't expecting to run into this guy here. ]

-- what the hell are you doing here?!

[ There's no masking the startled annoyance in his voice when Gen spots Atsumu further down the alleyway. Dirt grits underfoot as he promptly falls back a step to regard him with caution, ears canted back and ... face flushed. Quite flushed, actually. His memories of the masquerade might be hazy from the obscene number of drinks he'd had, but what little he does remember is more than embarrassing enough to fluster him, and Gen bristles at Atsumu from where he stands. ]

Ernesto (Closed)

[goldendeceiver]

[ DM if you'd like me to set something up for Ernesto and your character. ]

DOKJA

[goldendeceiver]

[ Saying that he's starting to get a hang of this time pocket business is overly generous, but Ernesto is at least beginning to catch onto how they work. It doesn't make being inside of one any less disorienting than before, but at least as he steps into this current pocket of distorted time and space, he's better braced for it.

Except... things seem relatively quiet in this one so far. Ernesto's ears perk up as he begins to slowly make his way forward, head on a swivel as he looks for signs of something that looks alarming, or a face that stands out even in the midst of all this strangeness, but he sees...

Nothing.

In a way that's more unnerving than being hit with a barrage of sights and sounds. It has him walking slower, trying to be mindful of how much sound his steps make in the echoing space around him as he strains his senses. It's only thanks to that hand second set of superior ears that he hears it at all, a shuffling sound that seems to come from a cabinet ten feet to his right. Ernesto stops moving, and calls out with a tentative-- ]

Hello?

lord voryn dagoth | the elder scrolls iii: morrowind

[sharmat]

(closed starters. hmu if you want one! yk where to find me.)

@liem

[sharmat]

(both springstar and highstorm are experiencing the symptoms of what voryn has hypothesized to be a leak in the timestream. with no evidence for or against this, rolling up his sleeves to delve into both issues has earned him more data than less.

examining the tree in each location has been a harrowing undertaking and not simply because of the invasive root system and time pockets. encountering enemies—for that is what they are and have always been—has been slowing his progress. and though there have been no hostile actions taken, with zenites being too embroiled in their own city's crises, finding liem in the stop-start mess of overlapping time causes his visible relief.)

Hai Meridian, Liem; what are you doing here? (voryn sidesteps a snaking root, reaching out to liem to clasp his shoulder.

looking elsewhere, deeper into the centre of the pocket having identified the fringes of the timeless zone by its glitches and jagged overlays, the sorcerer sighs.)

If I had known that this would occur on returning from the Scorching Isles, I might've requested that we stay there. Of course, Tibbs would have denied us, but—oh, what a mess.

Claude von Riegan | Meridian | Stargazer

[leicesters]

i. SPRINGSTAR - REGRESSION
[Claude had been investigating the roots, hoping to try to stop the spread of the vines and help anyone caught up in them, if he can. He's aware that the time pockets are also an issue, having heard of others being encumbered by them, but with no way to locate them easily, he decides putting it to the back of his mind is the best course of action more than just wandering randomly and hoping he bumps into one. Sooner or later he'll probably trip one.

Yet when his surroundings suddenly freeze around him in the Emporio district, the once-bustling marketplace already thinned in numbers thanks to the blight, it's still startling how quickly it becomes silent and still. Trying to continue only has him hit a seemingly invisible wall, and the chill that surges to his very shard has him shivering and wrapping his scarf more snugly around his neck. So now what does he do...?

He snatches from the corner of his eye some movement of a small figure, but when he turns they're already gone, perhaps hiding behind one of the stalls or stacks of merchandise. He puts a hand to his blade, uneasy.]

Is someone there? I'm not a big enjoyer of hide-and-seek.


ii. WILDCARD
[Toss your own starter or hit me up if you'd like a custom starter for anything else! I'm less interested in threading Highstorm reflection things for Claude, but I can absolutely have him react to your own character's Highstorm or Springstar shenanigans (or anything else!). Hit me up via moonsilver or pm if you want to plot.]

i

[fishfearme]

[Byleth, as well, has been wary of the time pockets, and thus far had lucked out into now accidentally stumbling into one. Much like the Scorching Isle, he doubted his own control over time would aid him here, and from the tales he heard from the other Shard-bearers, he didn't want to experience what was in them anyway.

But with no way to detect them, Byleth could only just cross his fingers and hope he was lucky.

That day, however, as he was out in the Emporio district, he glimpsed Claude in the corner of his eye amongst the stalls and crowd. He pivoted towards him immediately, lengthening his strides to catch up to oblivious friend, yet when he made to call out to him-

Their surroundings froze - eerily similar to when Byleth froze time. For a split second he actually thought he had somehow triggered Divine Pulse without realising... but no. No. It wasn't him, and while he stood there in blank confusion, Claude was already calling out to something - not to him, though Byleth startled as if he had.]

Claude. [he continued towards his friend, as he had been doing before time froze.]