festivals and mur--ahem, investigations 🎊🔍

[beleos]

COMMUNION WITH YIMA

After given some time for recovery and for Yima to hear reports of what transpired at the Tree of Life last month, a Communion message gently flows through the minds of each Shard-Bearer. They will have to choose to accept this message, and once they do, they will be greeted by Yima’s voice resonating pleasantly in their heads. She first apologizes for their harrowing experience with the Dryad, and that she hadn’t anticipated such a violent reaction from the Tree; she believes that their experiences point to an imbalance within the Tree itself, most likely brought about by the soon-to-come arrival of the Oracles.

She has spoken with Cyrus, and they have jointly decided that an investigation into the matter - and potentially the destruction of the Dryad - may be required to purge its influence from the Tree. Yima requests that any who would willingly seek out the Dryad volunteer to do so and will be outfitted with a ward against any tampering to prevent them from falling into the creature’s clutches a second time. It will take her a bit to fashion enough of these wards - but she anticipates being ready toward the end of the month.

She concludes her message with another heartfelt apology for your suffering, that she would not have sent any into such a situation she believed were truly dangerous. That being said, she takes responsibility for your ordeal and asks that if there is anything she can do in recompense, you have but to ask.

Yima will be available for Communion chatter here!

FESTIVAL OF REMEMBRANCE - HIGHSTORM

Takiltu is a month cycle the natives of Kenos regard with some amount of reverence and a hearty helping of excitement: the first part of the month (November) is spent reflecting on and celebrating the differing cultures and worlds each Kenosian represents. The second part of the month (December) is spent celebrating unity and togetherness, to come together with friends and family, to be kind to others and share in one’s wealth - whether that comes in the form of knowledge, monetary gains, or the exchange of gifts and one’s time.

Each city celebrates differently, the flavor of their festivals a reflection of their people.

In Highstorm, the first thirty days of Takiltu are spent in Remembrance. The city is decorated with string lights, paper lanterns, candles, and torches to illuminate the streets in beautiful colors and shimmering magical illusory shapes. The focal point of the festival takes place in The Court, where the reflecting pool has been especially decorated with arrangements of flowers and lights. Festival stands erected around the Courtyard peddle paper lanterns as well as refreshments, fanciful decorative items, and enchanted jewelry that is said to make one’s recollections of the past temporarily clearer.

The pool itself is the main attraction, here; citizens who approach its waters and gaze into its depths will find its normal abilities to reflect memories enhanced. The images are surreal for their clarity, vivid - and normally, one is requested to look into the eyes of those most precious to them whose souls remain lost, to pay homage to their memory and sacrifices, and to wish them rebirth in the new world to come. A purchased lantern is then lit and sent skyward where it floats into the moonlight, joining the others hovering above.

But this year, there is an addition to the usual fanfare. Emet-Selch has been asked to assist with the festival; as long as he is given permission, he can recreate the memory displayed in the reflecting pool. Yima has granted him a temporary blessing which enhances his natural creation abilities - a gift for their people she is grateful for. Your character can choose what it is they see in the water - whether it’s a place, a person, or the feelings of a certain point and time, he will temporarily recreate it around you. Everyone will be able to see this conjuring and interact with it while it is functional. It will last between 15 to 30 minutes before dissolving into beads of light that slowly trickle skyward before disappearing. You’ll be told to light a lantern, send it adrift, and that this will give peace to the part of you and your Shard that surely aches. But does it…?

Elsewhere in Highstorm, the High Theater has been painstakingly decorated and aglow with magical floating motes of light; the interior has been transformed into something of an Art Gallery. The pieces within are dedications to parts of worlds long gone, as well as the people in them; some are beautifully painted landscapes of exquisite, far-away places beyond the imagination. Some are more mundane and familiar snapshots of life in a home world not too different from your own. There are portraits of families, loved ones, and those the Zenites long for most. This is their time to mourn, to grieve, and to appreciate their pasts - the pasts that will lead them to a brighter future, one day. They must move on into the future, but treasuring that which came before is equally important to them.

Should you touch any of the motes of light that are around the art pieces decorating the Gallery, you will find yourself able to feel, hear, see, and taste a piece of the world the piece represents. Some of these are warm gatherings over a dinner table with family; others are heart-wrenching expressions of loss and bitterness and pain. Be cautious which you choose. Oh, and do be careful not to stand too closely with someone else when you touch one, or one accidentally touches you - the experience is absolutely contagious through Communion.

CELEBRATION OF CHERISHMENT - SPRINGSTAR

While Highstorm’s Festival of Remembrance is a more demure and reflective time, Springstar takes a much different approach to the season. In true Meri nature, the Celebration of Cherishment encapsulates celebrating life in all forms - and that means parties! The Psychagogía is the main hub of excitement considering, but festivities can be found in almost every single district of Springstar. Wherever you go, something is happening and someone is trying to rope you into having a good time.

The city has been decorated with bright and colorful multi-purpose magical ivy-like vines that sprouts buds that bloom over the course of the month into gorgeous flowers. These flowers are considered sacred, and their blooming is a momentous time of joy and good fortune. Each flower is left intact; disturbing one is tantamount to a war crime by the natives, so don’t get observed if you try to pluck one!

The Psychagogía is incredibly lively, teeming with people and events; almost every venue is peddling some kind of ‘Cherishment’ celebratory sale or discount. The first portion of the month includes what the locals call “the meri-ment” (and seem quite chuffed about that pun), in which Kenosians are encouraged to go bar hopping and taste the wide variety of specialty ales and liquor unkegged only around this time of year. Participants are highly encouraged to share stories of their worlds and cultures, to tell those they mingle with tales of the worlds they will one day return to and why they’re special, unique - to celebrate their one-day return.

Alongside this comes a great deal of outdoor grilling, fresh meats and vegetables sending tantalizing scents everywhere you go once the evening hours arrive. Some of these food and drinks can cause… interesting… effects if you consume them in excess, especially at the Emotional Damage - so try to show restraint. It would be a bit embarrassing to find yourself strangely infatuated with the first person you lay eyes on after your fifth night out on the town, or feeling compelled to express warm feelings aloud you wouldn’t normally commit to another. Luckily, it only lasts a short period of time - but beware the wicked hangover afterward. Strangely enough, if you’re suffering, you feel oddly compelled to seek out a little TLC from someone else - someone with whom you might have some unresolved feelings toward, positive or negative. Is it longing? Anger? Jealousy? Unspoken affections? Love? Whatever it is, you're more likely to seek them out for some care.

At the Coliseum, nightly brawls between Meris take place and the usual assortment of monsters are temporarily taken out of offer. This part of the festivities is one where each Kenosian is encouraged to settle any differences or misgivings with others and to get it out of their system, cleansing them of bad mojo - “leave it in the ring,” as it were. Despite beating each other bloody at times, most combatants willingly stop before it gets too serious and fighting to the death is not permitted. You must embrace your adversary before you leave, and your ‘bad blood’ will be considered purged and settled so you can start anew.

The Empório district is celebrating consumerism, because of course it is! All the usual goods are on a considerable discount, and for a brief time, gardening tools and supplies are free! The reason for this is that Springstar’s citizens are encouraged to plant one seedling in the gardens in Katoikitikós once the flowers lining the city have gone into full bloom. It is said this honors gods across cultures and time as well as invites good fortune. You are encouraged to plant a seedling in a group or pairing, as space is limited - and there are superstitions regarding this togetherness resulting in more favorable results. Should you plant a seedling with someone else, you might indeed find that something is beginning to blossom between you… Based on your Aspects, you might find yourselves feeling closer and more connected - or repulsed depending on your compatibility. This effect will last through the month after planting. Should you check on the seedling later, its health will be reflected in the state of your relationship. Friends will find the little plant thriving; enemies will find it is sickly and dying.

For those Shard-Bearers who have already harmonized with the Meridian or who have quarters in Heliopolis, you will find the communal meals much more lavish and indulgent than usual. There may even be a taste of home waiting for you among the spreads on offer, or some comfort food you haven’t had in a while. It is encouraged to share anything to your taste - or even to share why it is meaningful to you via Communion. Or you can just eat. You do you, man.

Once the flowers have bloomed and the festivities reach their peak, one might find the city loud and boisterous and sleep a little more difficult to come by. Springstar is absolutely thriving and alive - and you, too, feel more invigorated and energetic despite any lack of zzz’s. Should you leave the city, however, this effect will vanish and you might find yourself unnaturally fatigued and in need of more rest than is customary. Returning to Springstar will slowly build up your stamina again. This effect lasts until the end of the month.

THE MYSTERY OF ALENROUX

Once celebrations are in full-swing in the cities, some characters (i.e., any characters that choose to participate in this prompt) will be contacted by Cyrus or Yima, depending on their faction or whichever they feel a stronger inclination towards if they are currently Unharmonized. Both will explain that there’s something that they’d like you to investigate, but also to prepare and be careful, since this request doesn’t come without danger… A Shard has been lost in Alenroux, and they both hope you’ll be able to retrieve it.

MERIDIAN

“I’ve gotten word that a Zenith Shard-Bearer was sent to Alenroux a little bit before you arrived, and they haven’t come back yet. Normally, none of our business, but based on what some of the farmers have been saying, I think they’ve gotten hit by Discord. If it gets high enough, well… You don’t really have your mind anymore. We can help them through Purification. Even if it’s just for long enough to calm them down, it’s better than them being trapped in madness. It might be easier to dissipate them first, though, then Purify their Shard. They were last seen heading to the Northern forests. Let me know what I can give you to help, and make sure to help each other. Good luck.”

ZENITH

"Please heed my request, though I do not ask this of you lightly... One of the Zenith's children has been lost among the fields of Alenroux come nightfall and I fear the worst has befallen them. There are dangerous elements attracted to the presence of a soul, and the likelihood our brethren has been lost... it is great. Seek out the Shard - and if you are able to retrieve it, please do so. If it has suffered corruption too great to be saved or would place you in too great a danger to take back, then... I trust you to make the merciful choice. I place this in your hands and will give you whatever you require to see it through. Look out for your fellow Zenith and work together, as I do not want to lose more of you. Be well."

Both factions will offer their recruits access to standard weaponry and armor/protective clothing. If a character asks for more, they’ll be given a weapon or a piece of armor with minor magical properties which would normally cost 1 AC token to purchase. Magical weapons are on loan however. If your character takes these and/or chooses to keep it, please note this in your Committed Actions! If they choose to keep standard weaponry, Cyrus/Yima will just be disappointed in your dishonesty. :(

When you arrive during the day cycle, you’ll also find horses and magic hoverboards to use (they go the same speed tbh), because heading North to the forests is a bit of a trek, and you might not make it there in time on foot! As the sun starts to set, you’ll see the people in Alenroux start to leave, going clearly your opposite direction. Once night falls (Nov. 9th OOC), it doesn’t take long for things to change.

There’s just a sliver of a crescent moon in the sky, which makes the rolling hills and forests much more ominous than they were during the day. And as the stories say, it only takes an hour or two before you start to run into strange creatures. Closer to the Cornerstone, there are indeed strange creatures, and while they may not all look scary, they might present different kinds of dangers such as…

• A light in the dark looks like a fairy, but stare at it too long and you’ll find yourself hypnotized by a ghastly fish will lead you to a body of water to drown you.
• An innocuous puddle may form up into a mass of corrosive goo, complete with the bones and items of the last person it came across. When you slice it, it simply creates a copy of itself, so hopefully you realize this before you’re surrounded.
• A strange straw poppet (sans pins, of course) that possesses you once you touch it and will use your body to try and fight anyone else while your consciousness is trapped inside the doll. To be freed, you only have to destroy the doll, but you’ll feel the pain of how its destroyed even if you don’t bear any injuries from it.

However, as you get closer to the Northern forests, they become significantly more fearsome…

• With a roar, a massive, multiheaded beast descends, and each of its mouths is perfectly capable of taking a bite out of you. Watch out for the snake’s head in particular, since its venom will cause you to hallucinate your worst fears.
• As you come face to face with an odd creature, bioluminescence lights up on its skin, and the spins on its back quiver with a sound like a rattlesnake’s. As the spines quiver, you find it exceptionally difficult to take your eyes off them and move as it stalks closer slowly. You can fight blind, right?
• Diving in and out of larger shadows like its water is a slimy beast that’s incredibly fast. Its teeth may be small, but its tail is a razor-sharp whip that could remove a limb if you’re not careful.

These are just examples, however. There are many creatures lurking the wilds of Alenroux, so feel free to create your own monsters with unique effects.

It's a difficult trek North, and you may be tired from hours of running, fighting, or both… But eventually, a few people do find what they were looking for. They might have even missed it, if not for how their Shards suddenly felt like they were burning. From the shadows, a twisted creature of roots and lights which what looks like many crystals in a glowing mass appears and one of its eyes locks on you. It looks like now is your chance.

NOTES

Weather summary for the first 30 days of Takiltu (NOV & DEC):

Highstorm is in late fall, early winter season. Some flurries may occasionally fall and it is getting considerably cold out there! Bundle up!

Springstar is in the throes of early summer; the weather is climate and pleasantly warm for outdoor celebrations (but not sweltering). There are occasional afternoon showers, but they don’t last very long.

Notable city changes:

If you wander the Markets in Highstorm, you might notice some of the peddlers seem a bit wary of you. Hm, guess something happened around here! Probably totally unrelated, but Silco and Vander (or anyone with them) will be treated with nervous suspicion.

Similarly, if you're traveling with Set (or you're Set) in Springstar, you might occasionally find yourself getting strange looks. Ask Set why.

Faction updates:

There are no explicit changes in faction behavior at this time. This will be a staple in all future event write-ups to catalogue the fluidity of the conflict as it progresses, though, so we're including it here for posterity!

Event Notes:

The Reflecting Pool in the Courts of Highstorm can be observed normally with no addtional effects or can bring your memory to vivid life thanks to the help of Emet-Selch (and Yima). If you grant him permission (which can be handwaved), he will breathe life into whichever memory you have chosen to view! If this includes any NPC’s or interactive elements, you will be responsible for playing them out in any tags until they disappear. Please see Emet’s toplevel for any interactions you’d like to thread out with him as a part of this.

For the Gallery in Highstorm, the art depicted in and scenes experienced through the pieces are up to you to create! Feel free to go wild with any associated NPC's in the scene and worldbuild as you see fit. Highstorm holds a variety of citizens from across the multiverse, so you could feasibly go fantastical places, or experience something distinctly profound and beyond your imagination...

The drinks and refreshments in Springstar can be enchanted in just about any way you’d like, including bringing upon minor physical changes of the cute, fun, and flirty variety! Feel free to get creative (as long as you get permission from your thread partner), the Meris would also merrily insist growing extra fluffy, scaly, etc bits during the celebration will only help you party harder! 🥳

As reminders for Alenroux, once night falls, a character is not able to leave until sunrise, which is 24 hours later. If your character is dissipated, you can have a PC retrieve their Shard or the respective Faction they're allied with will send out a search party to find it. Remember to report character deaths!

CODING

Comments

QUESTIONS?

[beleos]

Do you have any questions regarding the event? Please ask here!

[cryomance]

For those encountering the twisted root high encounter monster, how is it likely to attack and kill its victims?

ALENROUX HIGH RISK ENCOUNTERS

[beleos]

For the threading of encounters with character pairs already determined through plotting and RNG.

CHILDE & VANDER

[kenosnpcs]

COMMITTED ACTIONS

[beleos]

If your character does something that would be notable to the wider setting or noted by NPCs, report it here! This applies to all the Springstar + Highstorm prompts.

For example, if your character(s) got into a bar brawl, destroyed or stole property, helped an NPC run their shop for a bit, etc. Essentially let us know how character is impacting the wider world of Kenos!

[brutalizer]

Kainé will try to weasel out of handing back the magical weapon (a sword enhanced with magic to make it stronger/easier to cut through thick materials with) she took on loan. She misses having a cool weapon, what's the worst that could happen!

YIMA

[kenosnpcs]

The ethereal matron of the Zenith is available to be reached through communion. Warm, patient, and encouraging, you can feel her soothing aura despite not being in her presence in person. Do you have questions or uncertainties? By all means, you only need to ask.

NOTE: Please tag into this thread no later than Wednesday 11/09 if you would like to interact with Yima. Loremasters will not be replying to tag-ins that come in after this date in order to accommodate everyone throughout the launch in a timely fashion. Thank you!

[lachtara]

[ Ah, if it isn't their gracious host. He will speak with the usual candor regardless of any recent information he's been given to cast doubt on her intentions. They would need to concentrate on the matter at hand regardless. But.... a few casual pleasantries first. ]

I would say 'good morning', but that greeting is rather subjective in Highstorm.

How have you been enjoying the festivities?

Festival of Remembrance - The Reflecting Pool

[lachtara]

The newest shard-bearers are not the only ones making use of the Reflecting Pool this night. Those who arrive first are locals who have been waiting expectantly for this portion of the festival. All of them come with requests of loved ones, cherished people, and precious memories that they desperately want to see again.

When the festival lights bloom and the first few begin to make their requests, he conjures them with a typical frown and reluctant sigh. Surely, expecting a 'thank you' for his efforts is having too high of expectations.

But they are - beyond those expectations - grateful. Many shower him with tearful thanks. In the case of a young girl who asked for a conjuring of a recently deceased pet cat, she even dares to thank him with a hug. (Which he allows for a few seconds....before shooing her away.) The frown on his face begins to lift just a little as the night wears on.

Conjured memories are not the only thing being recalled on this night. The age-old feeling of being wanted - of helping with his talents and seeing their smile - is a feeling that he has not recalled in an age.

"Come now, we mustn't tarry." Emet-Selch waves the next person up to the pool without getting a good glimpse of who it is through the crowd and with the dim light. Though he urges them to move quickly, each memory would be given the time and respect it deserved. "Tell me of what you wish to see."

[impiety]

"You truly are a kindhearted man, Emet-Selch."

Archangel decides to greet his -- perhaps -- soon-to-be co-conspirator. He offers a slight smile to him as he steps forward so that he could name what memory that he wishes to see.

"It is through memories that we can find reasons to save ourselves." So he says, as he gazes into the pool. "For that reason alone, I need to see what started me on this path." There is a pause as he takes out a Shard from his pocket; he holds it close to his chest. It is the one that is of his sister. A brilliant shade of green and misshapen in its design -- yet he holds it close and loves it all the same.

"... actually, could I see one of your memories, instead?"

Dimitri Blaiddyd | Advocate | Meridian

[hauntedking]

I. Highstorm - Gallery

[ While Dimitri has no real wish to visit the reflecting pools or inflict his own painful memories on others, he still finds certain parts of the city interesting. The gallery, for instance, seems poignant. A remembrance of something lost and distant and speaking to the landscapes of lost worlds. It still tugs at his heart, but it is perhaps easier for him than reliving whole memories. And while he is a part of Meridian, he can still appreciate what is being done here. No matter how painful a reminder it is.

There is one particular painting that draws his attention. It's a group of children playing in a snowy landscape and while their faces are indistinct it reminds him of his own, distant childhood. He pauses to linger and to stare at it, his cloak drawn a bit tighter around him. And as he watches one of those motes drifts closer and he brushes it. There's a sudden surge of emotion - of joy and nostalgia and he bursts out into a laugh - not quite joyful, but a laugh all the same, that echoes in the area around him.

He's a loud man when he wants to be.

He pauses after a moment, the emotion lingering, and he offers a sheepish smile. ]

My apologies. I - that was unexpected.


II. Springstar - Drinks (And Their Side Effects)

[ Truth be told, Dimitri is not in a celebratory mood, but this isn't his home or his people. So perhaps that's to be expected. But he is a guest here - a resident - for the forseeable future, so it's perhaps inevitable that he gets drawn into all of the festivities. He can only politely demure for so long before eventually there's a drink thrust into his hand and, if nothing else, he drinks to be polite. Even if the taste is something he cannot truly savor. The heat and warmth of the alcohol is still pleasant, even if he tries not to go too far or too fast with any of it. It's the little changes that give him pause later.

At first he doesn't realize it - but then he catches sight of himself in a shop window and he has to pause to stare, raising a hand to ruffle his hair - and touch the rounded lion's ears that are poking through his hair. Oh.

Oh, dear.

Does he have a tail, too? Or is he going to get one? He doesn't know. Maybe he can hear a little better? Hard to say. ]

Oh. That - that was not a side effect I was expecting.

III. Springstar - Seedlings

[ The notion of planting something to start something new, to celebrate life past and present touches him. He just isn't sure who to do it with. So he lingers for a moment near the seedlings, hoping to see a familiar face. Or maybe just to find someone who might be willing to share in the event. He offers a little smile - a touch sheepish, but friendly. ]

Are you interested in planting one? I'm hoping to find someone to share it with.

IV. Wildcard

[ Invent your own! ]

i!

[sanguinary]

[Matsui, who'd just been vibin a few paintings away after turning the nearby corner, immediately pauses at that Very Loud peal of laughter. The look he's sending Dimitri's way lacks in judgment, at least... And, after he speaks about effects:]

Ah... It was one of these, wasn't it?

[He gestures toward another floating orb with a mixture of both exasperation and amusement. The amusement is largely because it's just plain funny hearing a sound that loud come from a man who had only been polite and calm when they'd last spoken.]

Take care with them. It seems they aren't all for a good laugh.

sebastian michaelis - stargazer - zenith

[cutlery]

highstorm

i. bad hair day

[ After hearing about the terrible, terrible predicament that some Shard-Bearers have found themselves in where their aesthetics are ruined by out-of-control hair growth, Sebastian is here to help! …Granted, this is also a slightly ulterior motive, because it’s a great way to get a little Purification in without having to embarrassingly ask for it. With his sclera still darkened, Hayame and Gen shouting in his head, and scars left on his neck, he’s keen to do just about anything to reduce his Discord. So impromptu hairstylist it is.

Sebastian has done a little negotiation to set up shop for the day in the marketplace, and you indeed may see a few people looking freshly trimmed or with rather elaborately braided and put-together looks. How lucky that you happen to stop by the booth when there’s not anyone waiting! Or just pass by to go what the fuck Sebastian.

He’ll at least do a really good job if you let him cut your hair? He’s a perfectionist in all he does, after all. ]

ii. masquerade sneak preview?!

[ Once his Discord is a little more under control, Sebastian will at least participate in the ceremony of the festival. There’s not much for him to look back on with any fondness, as his true home wasn’t exactly proper for the public, and his dalliances in the human realm weren’t anything he felt any more attachment to… But, he’s all about appearances, so he may as well have fun while the opportunity presents itself.

A remarkably ornate ballroom is what’s conjured, and all the people are dressed in the elaborate court fashions of the 1700s with music being played by musicians to match. Sebastian looks impressed by the scale of the illusion (shoutouts to Emet-Selch), and despite himself breathes out a little laugh that’s impressed. ]

My, my, this is certainly Schönbrunn Palace as I remember it.

[ He looks over pointedly to someone in the crowd and smiles knowingly, but he ends up turning his attention to you instead. ]

If you dance, I am a fine partner. And if not, a fine teacher.

springstar

i. storyteller

[ If you’re barhopping in Psychagogia, you might come across some people looking a little worse for wear… But it’s only because they’re overindulging compared to the local demon, or even worse, trying to keep up. Sebastian has gladly claimed a table nearly in the center of the bar, and there’s a comically large amount of glasses piled up in front of him, he’s bright and cheerful, but doesn’t seem to be intoxicated in the slightest... In his opinion, it’s your fault if you try and keep up with him with this kind of visual warning.

But he’ll give a polite wave with a warm smile once he lays eyes on you, whether you’ve met before or not. He gestures to the other seat to invite you to come to join him as he speaks. ]

Come, sit with me if you would like. I have been very much enjoying all of the stories being swapped, so I will gladly share another if you do not mind doing the same.

ii. you guys wanna fight?

[ In truth, Sebastian doesn’t really have any bad feelings to work out… If there’s anyone that would be in this category, well. He doesn’t exactly think Hayame would agree to leave it in the ring, as it were. But who doesn’t enjoy a little blood sport just for fun!

Where you pick Sebastian specifically (because he’s a dick) or you’re just randomly fighting someone else also for funsies, he doesn’t seem dressed for the occasion. He’s still overly formal in an elegant, well-tailored suit, but he doesn’t seem to notice the mismatch. He just smiles easily as he gives you a nod. ]

Ah, now, just to be certain… Just how much of a punch can you take? I do not wish to break bones accidentally!

[ this is definitely arrogant, but he’s also not kidding, so. Hope you answer honestly! ]

alenroux

i. cyocs (choose your own carry style)

[ Whether you’ve been hypnotized by a fish, have been caught unaware by a more difficult fight, or maybe just need a super quick assist, the local hella butler is here to help(?)! If you seem to have the situation handled, don’t worry about it, but otherwise, you may find yourself very unceremoniously scooped up (minus the last one) with an ease that’s probably a little surprising. Even if you’re significantly taller than Sebastian, he doesn’t seem to have any more trouble scooping you out of danger than he would an asthmatic 13-year-old.

As they move somewhere safer at a speed that’s similarly far too fast for a human, Sebastian at least asks (albeit way too casually): ]

Are you alright? [ Though after a moment, he'll also add: ] Ah, and my apologies for this. I will set you down in a moment.

wildcard

[ None of the above fit your fancy? Did we plan something else that isn’t covered above? This is your one-stop shop for a solid “Everything Else”! ]

springstar i!! JUMPS on christy

[comelately]

[ fortunately, Johnny avoided getting absolutely blasted out of his mind drinking along with Sebastian by rolling in (literally) late; the constant daylight in Springstar makes his sleep schedule strange, and he finds his rests more fitful than ever. Instead, he finds himself arriving late to the carnage. Sebastian's easily recognizable by his demeanor, even if he's cleaned up considerably from the last time Johnny saw him in that cave, but Johnny's more distracted by the giant row of empty cups lined up at his seat. ]

... You really are a demon, [ he comments, somewhere between impressed and concerned. ] At least when it comes to booze.

[ he's not quite pulling up to the table, but he's stopped his chair for the moment. Sitting down to drink with Sebastian seems like a bad idea based on the evidence. Still, he's curious... ]

Father Paul Hill | Zenith | Advocate

[vivificantem]

I. I Thank My God In All My Remembrance Of You]

[There are some times in his life that were better, that weren't tinged with things that could have been, or things that shouldn't have been but were anyway; he doesnt seek them out because they're better. He seeks them out because everything that he attaches to those things have been an integral part of who he is, have contributed to what he's become - and those things are just as important to keep close, he thinks, than the events of the last few weeks that he spent in his world.

So tonight as he's out by the pool he goes through what he usually goes through - he conjures up memories of the island, of its multitudinous grey days overshadowed with clouds, of shattered drywood and homes that are more ramshackle than charming, of the neverending clowder of cats originally brought here to take care of the rats but now have staked out their own place on the far side. If you'd like to see his hometown, this is a good time to do it; if you remember him, even vaguely, and you'd like to know where he's from, or if you're just curious about what this guy is doing here for so damn long - he certainly doesn't see company as an interruption, and he seems rather familiar with the space and drawing up memories to be seen.

But then there's the external display, one of the places that he's only been to once in his life and has no way of returning to - it's a rainforest of some sort, tropical and wet and sweltering, but there's some respite nearer to him, brought about in the form of a massive waterfall draping majestic over cliffs high ahead, crashing loud and cacophonous and beautiful just near enough for stray mist and droplets to dampen your clothing, your skin. It's a lovely place; rainbows kick up in the mist.

It's probably somewhere important, in the scheme of things. He remembers a lot about this place for somewhere he's only been once, let's put it that way. Feel free to come join him; he certainly doesn't own the view.]


[II. Go Forth Into The Land To Which I Will Be Your Guide]

[Of course, there's interest for him in Springstar as well, though he doesn't spend much time there - it's due to a blessing from Yima that he can be there at all, and he's grateful for it, and while he doesn't intend to overuse it he's also not going to let it go to waste. So out into the daylight he goes, and it's…

It's surprisingly good, given that it's been a while. He isn't imbibing in anything, or partaking in any of the food, nor does he seem able to be tempted - but he actually is spending a good amount of time around the open grilling and festivities happening more or less all over the place. It seems to have put him at peace in a way that few things have since his arrival at…any world that isn't explicitly his own, to be honest; if he's joined at one of the outdoor tables he's found himself at, his gaze is quick to dart toward the crowds.]

They like to share stories about their worlds. I'd like to hear about yours.

[His voice is even, calm perhaps to a fault, but even if he's not maintaining eye contact it's still plain through his tone that he's interested and not just asking to kill time.

He wants to know what these people are looking forward to, what they want so desperately to return to - he's not going to argue that point with anyone unless they bring it up first, but he wants to know people just the same.]


[III. Wildcard]

[If you want to do or go somewhere else, then please feel free to drag me along for the journey, as I will happily be dragged. Either write your own starter and I'll follow, or come grab me on Discord or on plurk and we can plan! I'm more likely to tag other people regarding Alenroux, but if you want a prompt I can come up with a private one or something.]

I

[sterngaze]

[Liem doesn't spend very much time lingering around the reflecting pool. Even given the air of open invitation present for the festival, some of the memories drawn forth by visiting locals are clearly personal, possibly even private. He's reluctant to intrude. Besides which, with so many visitors eager to relive cherished moments, the Court is crowded enough without the addition of random people loitering around to watch.

But he does visit, briefly. And while the sweltering rainforest with its thundering waterfall doesn't ring familiar for him, the dark-haired man standing in the midst of the greenery does. Liem stands where he is for a moment, watching from a short way across the courtyard-turned-jungle, before he pads closer to stand next to him.

The view is nicer over here, he notes; the air somewhat cooler, too.]

I've never seen a place like this before.

Barnaby Brooks Jr. | Exalt | Zenith

[hundredpower]

I. HIGHSTORM - GALLERY

[Barnaby is drawn to the gallery. It's like being in a graveyard where one pays respects to the departed, but instead of cold headstones and fading flowers, here, the art is full of life. Every piece bursts with sentiments so cherished to those who must still remember them, that it hurts to look. So many here have experienced loss, just as he has, and though it wrenches at his heart, it also moves him to see the love and care placed into every single piece.

The landscapes catch his attention first, from verdant fields with a single farmhouse in the distance, to rugged mountaintops showing a stunning vista of the land below. All beautiful, but he doesn't know them himself to know what significance they hold.

Instead, he's more interested in portraits, smiling faces where every wrinkle is captured down to the last detail, depictions so vivid he can guess what the person might have been like at a glance. He also appreciates the depictions of everyday life: one is a snowy scene of two children, bundled up in scarves and gloves and making snow angels together while their parents look on. Another painting, a companion piece, is a snowball fight, the children playing with their parents, the father being pelted while the children laugh.

He doesn't know if this artwork was put here by one of the surviving parents, perhaps, or one of the children. But he looks at it for a long time. After everything he's endured to arrive here, what would his own parents say if they could see him now...?]

II. SPRINGSTAR - EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

[Or perhaps you can find Barnaby trying to slip out of a bar in Springstar one evening. For some reason, he has his jacket pulled over his head, and he's keeping his eyes pointed down like he's doing his damndest not to make eye contact with anyone and draw attention to himself.

However, a certain someone (you) is in his way, trying to enter the bar while he's hurrying out, and he's forced to look up and do an awkward sidestep.]

Sorry -- you go first. [Please don't ask him why he's acting weird, he's silently begging you. (Also: do NOT look at the fluffy white tail peeking out from the bottom of his shirt.)]

III. THE MYSTERY OF ALENROUX

[With the news about a Shard that needs retrieving, Barnaby decides to do what he can to help. Maybe, even with his memories as muddied as they are at this point, he still wants to live up to whatever vestiges of his heroic past he can scrape together. Maybe he just wants to repay Yima for her kindness by paying it forwards to someone else in need. Regardless, he's determined to do what he can to get the Shard back.

He won't be recognisable at first -- clad in his red hero suit from home, armour he'd been sorely missing in Horos that would surely make combat easier in Kenos -- with the visor and glowing blue eyes obscuring his face. As the sun begins to set and he prepares to enter the forest, however, he realises he has company. Zenith, Meridian, or neither, he'll flip up his visor to reveal his face, regarding them curiously.]

Are you sure you want to do this? Lady Yima warned there are dangers ahead.

IV. WILDCARD

[Anything else here! For the second prompt I'm happy to play around with various drink affects for either Barnaby or your character, so if you have any particular ideas, hit me up here and we can plot. All prompts icly take place on or before the 9th, after which Barnaby will be dissipated.]

i.

[impiety]

[ Even in the far reaches of space, it seems like life is simply life.

He walks along as he admires the paintings that have been created. Archangel cannot help but wonder how many people were trampled upon for the happiness that was depicted. He cannot help but wonder how many people were unable to smile so warm and happy. That is the way that his mind always goes.

But he pauses as he sees a familiar face -- one that looks to be entranced in a different way with the paintings. ]

Life is just life no matter where you go. [ Archangel decides to share his thoughts -- well, the carefully doctored version of his thoughts, anyway. ] There is something comforting in that, don't you think?

Hythlodaeus // Stargazer // Meridian

[ktizo]

Highstorm
Memories (cw: alcohol)

Seeing Emet-Selch bring this kind of closure to others is a joy that warms Hythlodaeus' heart despite the cold air around him. How like him, to do such a kind thing for others and shrug it off as nothing special. How many times has he admired the other man for this kind of act? So modest, as usual.

But Hythlodaeus, while not opposed to spending time with this Emet-Selch, is here to remember their happier days. The memory he has conjured up around him brings to life city scenery, with three masked and robed friends stumbling through the night, arms linked together. In the middle is none other than Emet-Selch, though perhaps many who look on would not recognise him. Hythlodaeus was at his right, giggling about something so hard his hood was all but falling off, and to Emet-Selch's left was none other than their dear friend Azem. The only thing that made him stand out was his black mask, where Emet-Selch's was red and Hythlodaeus' was white. Azem is talking loudly, regaling the other two with a drunken story, while finally Hythlodaeus' hood gives way to his laughter and Emet-Selch yanks it back over his head with a "tch" and a quiet smile of his own before Azem takes his arm back.

"Ah, the sun is rising..." The Hythlodaeus in the memory seems to compose himself, eyes cast toward the lightening skies beyond the silhouettes of the spires and buildings. "We truly did this all night again, hm?" It elicits a noise of complaint from Emet-Selch, and Hythlodaeus smirks and continues. "Mayhap we should find our way home, ere the great and eminent Emet-Selch falls asleep where he stands. Keep an eye on him during today's Convocation meetings, won't you Azem? It wouldn't do for him to shirk his duties in favour of some shut eye."

The sound of Emet-Selch complaining about that particular jape travels far across the plaza- clearly he can't keep his voice down when he's had too much to drink. Though neither can any of them, it would seem. The Hythlodaeus watching the memory chuckles quietly to himself, but there's a somewhat sad look in his eye. He's barely noticed that he's attracted company, but he hardly cares, either.

Springstar
Meri-ment (cw: alcohol)

Hythlodaeus has always enjoyed an excuse to drink and be merry. He's quite happy to tell stories too, and indeed he can be found cheerfully regaling people with tales of Amaurot over a glass many nights. He speaks of the tall buildings, the curved spires, the people who cherished their star more than anything. He doesn't speak of how it all ended, because he isn't here to relive that. No, he's here to celebrate everything his home was, which was nothing short of paradise in his mind.

He's also open to hearing of other people's homes, though. So he'll sling an arm around your neck and grin, obviously somewhat drunk but keen to listen regardless. "And what of your home, my friend? Where did you come from? What was it like there?"

Alenroux
i. Offence (cw: injury)

Hythlodaeus can't very well leave someone to madness when he could potentially assist. He knows he can, too- his soul sight could make for a useful tool, and he can handle himself in a fight. He's come with a pack of arrows strapped to his back, with the idea being that if he saves one, he can study it and create more in his downtime. It will take some getting used to the weight on his back, but it's his only option.

He travels with people as needed, but eventually he finds himself alone. He knows that's a very bad idea, and he's about to search for the closest souls he can, when he hears a shifting off to the side. The creature is stick thin with long limbs akin to a human's, but the four translucent wings that protrude from its back and the multitude of eyes all over its body mark it as something dangerous. It's fast, he realises too late, as it rushes towards him to slash at his arm with long claws. He hisses as blood seeps into his robes, and with it having cornered him against a cluster of trees he takes a few more cuts to his forearms as he tries to fight it off.

Realising he can't aim his bow right now, he brings his hand forth- three beams of fiery light blast from his palm, and the creature is thrown backwards with a scream. And soon enough, Hythlodaeus loosens a flurry of arrows into it, fingers and hands working quickly. It stops moving, and begins to shrivel into a death curl of sorts.

Likely, the commotion has attracted someone. Either way, Hythlodaeus will be looking for a friendly face to keep him covered while he goes about tending to his wounds.

ii. Defence

Perhaps you got caught alone like Hythlodaeus did, or perhaps you were set upon while in a party and the beast was too terrible to flee from unscathed- either way, Hythlodaeus is offering his healing to anyone who finds they need it. It's a chance for a quiet moment in the forest, hopefully. He can't heal anything that would generally kill someone, nor can he fix a broken bone without significant time and energy, but he can heal cuts and grazes to make sure they don't get infected down the line.

"How did this happen?" He murmurs it softly as he lays a hand over the wound he's tending to, a soft light emanating from his palm as he works.

Wildcard

Feel free to describe your character's memory if you'd like Hythlodaeus to see it! He'll be hovering, because he's curious and also likes being close to Emet-Selch. I can be contacted at sneks or on discord at Steff#0069 if you'd like to plot anything specific!

Springstar/wildcardish

[lachtara]

Visiting Springstar is an ordeal. The constant sun overhead and the noise make it an exhausting affair - now more than usual with the current festivities underway. Ducking into a tavern with the intent of refreshments seems like a welcome reprieve until he realizes that the noise and merriment follow them indoors. What a bother.

Emet-Selch slips into one of the booths at the far side of the tavern. Even though there are two separate sides to the booth, he sits on the same side as Hythlodaeus (assuming he would insist regardless. Doing so immediately just saves time).

Two drinks are quickly placed on their table, and he eyes them as if their mere presence is potentially offensive. "These people certainly take their vainglorious festivities to heart." Unfortunately, he doesn't look in the mood for celebration. It seems if there is to be any 'revelry' today, it will take considerable effort.

Cid Garlond | Zenith | Savant

[youngprodigy]

I Highstorm and Springstar
Around both Highstorm and Springstar, Cid can be found with a small robot skittering behind him. It's only about the size of a small cat, so there's nothing truly exceptional about it, and there's something about the way it moves that makes it clear this is no object Cid has created within the last few weeks of their stay.

"How much of the general layout of the city are you capable of memorizing?" He says it looking directly at the robot, which whirs quietly for a long moment.

"My memory banks are adequate," it chirps back at him.

Whatever that means, it just makes Cid scowl at it. “What the hells does that mean?” he grumbles, more to himself that to the little robot.


II Highstorm Reflection Pools
The Reflection Pools are far from private, but that doesn’t stop Cid from kneeling down in a quiet lull to gaze into the water. It doesn’t take long for the waters to reveal a scene— a younger-looking Cid with three people sitting with him at a table. There’s a respectable amount of food on the table, along with drinks. The enormous man raises his glass with a grin. ”To the Ironworks’ first year!” he says, as the group clack their drinks together.

”I couldn’t have done all of this without you lot,” the younger Cid says fondly.

The Cid watching the reflection, meanwhile, brings a hand to his chest at some point during the vision. Though it’s something of a personal moment, it is in public. Anyone nearby who might have witnessed any of the memory at all gets a small smile from him, though it’s obvious he isn’t entirely certain what to say.

Being public about the memories of deceased loved ones is… rather awkward, isn’t it?


III Springstar Festivals
Though Cid isn’t usually the sort of person to go bar-hopping, he does enjoy his drinks, which is how he finds himself in his third bar of the evening (is it really evening if it’s perpetually day?), looking like he’s enjoying himself perhaps a bit too much.

Not just a drink, but he has an assortment of foods with him— really, Cid just looks like he’s having a great time. “You must try some of this for yourself!” He’ll say cheerfully, regardless of whether this is someone he knows or is a complete stranger.

Or maybe you’re not interested in barhopping at all and instead find yourself wanting to plant a seedling. As people can’t plant the seedlings as individuals, anyone Cid recognizes— so long as they’ve had something approaching a positive conversation in either Kenos or what little he can remember of Horos, he’ll wave them over. “I wouldn’t suppose you’d want to try planting one of those seedlings?”


IV
[Wildcard! Invent your own scenario.]

((I'll match format!))

I.

[cryomance]

Here she'd been casually skulking around Highstorm, mapping the area for herself, when she happens to come across a man and his ...metal spider? Honestly, she has no idea what sort of creature it actually is, only knows it's disconcertingly sentient enough to talk, which leaves her balking slightly and nearly losing her grip on her cigarette.

She'd be content to ignore it and go about her own day if it wasn't currently mapping its way towards her legs. Before it can get any closer, she uses the tip of her boot to halt the creature.

"Doesn't look like you have it well trained at all. Maybe you should leash it up before it gets stepped on."

Someone more careless and aggressive than her might decide to take their annoyance out on the tiny thing.

matsui gou | factionless | savant

[sanguinary]

i - high theater;
[Being an object that belongs in a museum himself, Matsui is drawn to the displays set up like an art gallery within the theater. He can be found standing in silent contemplation before several pieces - especially scenes depicting beaches or oceans at night - and looking lost to his thoughts. However, if someone happens to linger nearby long enough, he'll turn to them.]

...Have you heard of the Sea of Tranquility?

[Hm.

Or, find him absolutely space cadet-ing out thanks to a light orb. Maybe he's vibin directly in the way of that painting you want to see! It's fine, just shove him over. Or don't and perish as he seemingly snaps out of it with a sudden start and takes a stuttering step directly into you, whoops.]

ii - the court;
[He's also spending a fair amount of time hemming and hawing about approaching the reflection pool. Sometimes the notion of experiencing memories is both comforting and also frightening... Catch him standing at the edge with an unlit lantern held between his hands, seemingly contemplating his next move. If he catches anyone looking, he'll just offer a hesitant, halting and very small smile, like he's still practicing the whole Smiling Normally thing.

Then, lifting the lantern a little:] Have you already lit one? If you haven't... perhaps we could light one together. The more to light the way, the better, don't you think?

iii - coliseum;
[The general vibe of Springstar is a little too much for him, so he won't be spending quite as much time over here. But boy when he's here, he sure is engaging in combat for the hell of it! He's not the sort of person to hold onto bad blood and doesn't really have any here anyway, but he's always ready to engage in some good ol' fashioned fisticuffs for funsies.

Which is to say, he'll greet whoever's looking to face off against him with a gentle little half-bow, which is probably too polite for the circumstances.]

We will proceed with hand-to-hand combat alone, I assume?

[Hopefully, since he sure doesn't seem armed with anything but his little twiggy limbs.]

iv - wildcard;
[feel free to hit me up wherever, throw whatever spaghetti you'd like my way, or nyoom for an inbox thread!]

i

[impiety]

No, but it sounds peaceful.

[ Archangel cannot help but quip as he is asked a question about some sea. In truth, he feels like he has heard it before but he wants to be difficult on principle. The principle being that he is looking at paintings of happy faces makes him think of how there are faces of the tortured and damned that have been forgotten.

Sometimes, he cannot get the disgust and hatred that he has of people out of his mouth that he ruins even the most peaceful of situations. ]

mamoru hijikata + iconoclast + meridian

[prizeneck]

Discord Tier 2 - The Yassification of Mams

[With the Dryad incident, he’s heard he got it quite easy. His hair is growing longer, thick unruly strands reaching his shoulders if he hasn’t picked a knife and snipped at it unceremoniously. That’s not a problem. At one point someone gives him a hair tie, and he ties the front and top of his hair back to keep it from falling onto his eyes. It’s messy, but it works, even if he leaves a trail of black strands on the floor when he can’t find a bin somewhere. Not like he can look at himself in the mirror, anyway.

But his nails grow, too, and it’s a hassle. After a while, it messes with the way he holds, touches things to navigate, and even using the back of his hand to guide himself along the wall makes it difficult when he flicks his hand the wrong way and a long talon snags on the irregularities of the surface. ]

Goddamn it. [He cradles his hand close to his chest with a hiss, stopping in his tracks as he feels at a finger that bent the wrong way. He never thought he’d get upset over a broken nail, for crying out loud. And now this shit.]

The Court - What, don’t tell me you’re getting scentimental?

[He’s not a stranger to mechanisms of grief.

But he’s not entirely sure how he ended up there.

Recon, he’d tell himself. He’s scouting out the places where people would mingle, listening closely to the threads of conversation woven through the crowds. He ends up in that place because people excitedly moved along, keeping their voices soft but unable to hide the thrum of duty in their footsteps, the hitches of their breaths, even in those with their heads low in retrospection, as though their eagerness to be in such a place would offend the spirits of whoever is being remembered.

(Because yes, of course they’re coming to this place on purpose to watch pay your respects the right way. You really want them to come back? Better not typo that F in the chat.)

And as much as he wants to scoff at the ritual of lighting a lantern, letting it drift off into the sky, and making a wish, he knows it’s not that different from guiding a kid away from a relative’s photo on a black picture frame and pressing a wooden sword in their little palms to make them forget about it.

Sometimes all you have left of others are the memories you have of them. And most decide to honor them, perhaps as a means to perpetuity. The refresh so many ask for.

And you would think that Mamoru would wish to forget more than remember, but the memories are the sediment within the walls he lifted, the last breath he takes before he takes the plunge to start each day/night.

But here’s the kicker: Mamoru can’t see. So when the crowd dissipates (or at least he thinks so), and he steps closer to the mirror—perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of curiosity— it’s not the sights that strike him, but everything else.]

1.

[’Motherfucker.’

A growl in his mind so strong it actually shines through the shard instead, scatters it like glass around him for who knows how further away. Perhaps it’s then that whatever is happening now calls to your attention, or maybe you were there from the beginning, soft pink petals fluttering with the breeze and catching on your hair.

Despite the tranquility of the scene, set up in a modern day city, so foreign-looking in comparison to where they are now, Mamoru’s eyes are wide behind the lenses of his sunglasses. A child with laughter on his lips runs fast, arms flailing, scaring pigeons pecking at the floor.

He hears the steps, the smell of the sap of the trees so strong, how the petals beneath his feet felt and made everything both slippery and sticky. He has the cadence of what happens imprinted in the back of his eyes.

The child runs past him.]

2.

[One, two.

One, two… threefour.

One, one—

Parry. Counter. Dodge.

Shit, says one of the men holding wooden swords and wearing a strange attire.

Mamoru can’t see, but his lungs seize. He knows the moisture in the air— he had felt it every night on the crook of his elbows in particularly long stakeouts, nestling nostalgia there. The crickets stutter their calls in reply to the loud cracking of wood across the trees just as he remembered. The speed with which he gets hit on the head as he curses, his fingers absently feeling the scar on his temple as pain bloomed, phanthom-like as though he’s the one feeling it. One of the now many, forgotten amid his black hair and the others across his face.

He remembers the bruise on his forearm the next days; he can’t see, but the rawness of his opponent’s cry as cold as the night around them makes the full moon in his mind’s eye particularly bright, casting deep shadows across his mentor’s unrelenting figure.

He doesn’t want to revisit this.]

3. (Except it’s 4 for Archer)

[The air, here, is dry. Heated. And he feels sand and dirt caking up into his mouth, the iron of blood dripping in and out. He has to swallow down something thick in his throat; he remembers this well, and everything throbs, pain too strong it numbs, his teeth pound into his head, his back on the strikingly cold floor.

He remembers it hurt to breathe, and remembers how the ground shook beneath him when the girl kneels by him, calling out his name. It all happens as the sounds, the scent, the feeling of it surfaces from Mamoru’s mind.]

Really? [That’s all he has to say about this, gripe. Out of every memory he has of her, it has to be this one?]

Emotional Damage - sneaky food effects it happen when you yeast expect them

[You don’t have to tell him: restraint may as well be his middle name, with how much pent-up everything he keeps on a daily basis. But he knows that emotions are electricity, give them an outlet. He’s created a system, feeding himself enough with them to channel into what keeps him going every day—another curve ball, another dodge, and so on, and so forth. It ain’t advised to bottle up emotions, so it’s a wonder so many people look for them inside those glasses.

So he sips quietly at a drink, and after taking out the closest thing to a hamburger and bringing it to a bench somehow, he starts eating it with a frown. It’s as if he’s studying it, carefully, like the most valuable combat tactic he’s ever seen.

(Hydration check!)

He can be spotted at one point when he removes his glasses to clean them on his ragged shirt after taking a sip of his drink, and his face is different. Unmarred skin, especially on his face, grey eyes slightly darkened without the scarring. That hideous stubble clean shaven.

Or maybe you’ve been affected by whatever you’re eating and drinking, and he and the bench seemed welcoming enough to want to join him, talk to him. Maybe he seems warm (he is), sturdy and solid (he is), and approachable (he’s not).]

Coliseum - When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water

[A kind enough sponsor approached him a while back, gave him a box. Somehow aware of Mamoru’s forever present paranoia, they left the box on a table, didn’t touch him when a congratulatory pat on the back was supposed to happen, and thanked him for a good show at the Coliseum.

The box had boots, sturdy ones, good material, took basically no time to break them in. It was a gift, he had said, so that he happens upon the ring once again, better equipped. A small gesture for a great combatant.

‘Right,’ he had muttered. But he didn’t look at a gift horse in the mouth (he can’t), and took the offering nonetheless.

So he ends up there, again, of course. It’s also as closest to a school he can find. And mostly, he stays in stands, sitting quietly near the ring to make sure he catches everything in his hearing - how much of the ring the fighters take, their footwork, breath. And even if people do recognize him—albeit some of them just throw insults at him for tumbling with a certain redhead— he knows no one here enough to fight whatever these fighters have pent up out in the ring, amidst shouts and heckles. Maybe you find him there, hands clasped under his chin.

Or… somehow the hecklers/fans manage to drag him onto the ring again, spurred by the last appearance there. There’s a referee this time, asking them for a good, clean fight.

He snorts.] Sure.

Alenroux - Don't spell part backwards. It's a trap.

[He hasn’t ridden on a horse in a while. The trot and the walk alone make his core and thighs go sore from using them in a way that he didn’t use to work on, but somehow, remembers enough (shoulders low, heels down). When he climbs down from the steed, finally (finally) with a sword at his waist, he turns to whoever arrived around the same time, patting the horse’s flank in thanks. The presence of that little thing seems to make him looser, more assured. ]

You’re gonna have to be my eyes, here, [he warns.]

Wildcard!
[ooc: Feel free to come up with your own lovely prompts (there are way too many good ones!!! Mods!!!), I can adapt to them! You can hmu on the discord at jackuzis#4761 or at humblebrag if you want something more complex or less go-with-the-flow. Serious or just self-indulging threads are good for me, I aim to please.]

court - one

[impiety]

Is it wrong to assume that your family loved you?

[ It is what Archangel muses on as he glances at the child running around with such a bright smile on their face. He sees some similarity between the memory and the one experiencing it. ]

An odd question, I'm sure. [ He reaches his hand out so that he could lightly pat the child's head as the memory continues to run around in joy and excitement. ] But it also means that you know what it means to be protected and want to protect something, too, right?

HAYAME ➳ ICONOCLAST (FACTIONLESS)

[warmare]

(cw: usual JINBA warnings, eye injuries)

01 ↣ DISCORD (HIGHSTORM or SPRINGSTAR) ↣ 調子はずれ

[The effects that followed the dreams visited on the Shard-bearers by the Dryad have not been kind to Hayame. Her shard aches painfully with an ice cold sensation that no amount of artificially applied warmth can melt, the hearing in her right ear goes in and out, rendering her half-deaf at random times, and every single day she finds herself grappling with an unending craving for meat. ... Not to mention that there is a demon and a god of war tethered to her hearts and living in her head.

She doesn't sleep well. She doesn't rest, squabbling with the voices in her head, one almost out of pettiness. The hunger doesn't leave her, the built-up Discord untended by a combination of pride, shame, ignorance, and her status unaligned to either the Meridian or the Zenith. But she has... business, things she must do, and so while she can sometimes be spotted walking (sometimes stumbling) through the city streets, most often... The centaur attempts to find some degree of escape in the most natural areas where people don't fuss at you about staying too long or overnight. If you happen to pass through those woods or parks... you may find Hayame leaning against a tree or curled up in its roots, shivering despite a lack of chill in the air or tearing into a bloody, freshly-made kill.

For better or for worse, with only one eye and now only one reliably working ear... She is easier to sneak up on. Whether you want to sneak up on a woman that can kick at 2000psi, well...]

02 ↣ RELUCTANT REMEMBRANCE (HIGHSTORM) ↣ 形見の記念祭

[There is a crowd gathered around the reflective pools outside of the manor belonging to the Yima woman. When Hayame passes by its fringes on another disgraceful errand ran for a merchant in exchange for paltry coin or food, she does not stay, but the second time... She does stop long enough to see what the fuss is about. The third time, ill effects of her heightened Discord showing slightly through her icy exterior, she lingers a bit longer, almost... almost tempted, but as desperately as she wants to see certain faces, the idea of doing so where someone else might observe her, the idea of letting strangers see visions of her world and the weaknesses or shame such things would expose for her...

Someone suddenly moves into her vision from the left. The loss of her hearing has put her on edge (even more so than usual), let alone the makeshift eyepatch that covers that side of her face, and Hayame can barely cover the startled reaction that her damaged senses cause, hooves skittering on the cobblestones and tail whipping, barking out a quick, defensive,]

Watch it.

03 ↣ CHERISHMENT BANQUET (SPRINGSTAR) ↣ 愛蔵の祝い

[Some of the shops in Springstar, in honor of the festival, occasionally offer very steep discounts or special free meals to those who meet certain requirements... and as disgraceful as it was, Hayame has not been able to sate herself for days and days. It isn't a hunger for just food, either, but specifically for meat, and even though guessing why disgusts her... She can't help it. She's so gods damned hungry.

If you happen to join one of the large, open-air food court of sorts that has sprung up in Springstar these days, you might find one of the tables occupied by a woman whose bottom half is that of a dun mare. And even taking into account how much food someone of that size must have to eat to fuel their existence...

That is a lot of plates piled next to her... and she's showing no signs of stopping, sharp teeth that don't seem to match either horse or woman ripping into a giant grilled drumstick.]

04 ↣ MIDNIGHT MYSTERY (ALENROUX) ↣ 夜間危険視

[Hooves churn the soft earth as she races through the trees, dodging over roots and uncaring of branches that whip into her face, snag in the long ebony mane that trails behind her. Both sets of lungs heave, hearts pound, she can pick out the thinning of trees that she recognized from the path she'd traveled before being separated from her companion, if she could just get to a clearing where her bow would be of better use-

Glowing eyes flash in the dark, a hulking beast of exposed bone and sharp teeth that moves in jilted, unnatural steps and yet somehow keeps close to her fetlocks no matter how fast she throws herself into a gallop. She can't hear it well, can't see it as well, but she can smell it, feel it's heavy footsteps... Half a ton of centaur, the white of her remaining eyes bared in primal fear, a six foot-tall bow clutched in one hand, suddenly bursts into the clearing. It is obvious she did not expect anyone else to be there, she half-rears up, hooves kicking out, but there's no time for anything but to shout-]

Defensive position- !

[Before the monster bursts through the trees after her, the twang of a bowstring lost in its roar as Hayame looses an arrow into it's throat.]

05 ↣ WILDCARD ↣ 鬼札

[Hit up my plotting comment, hit me up at stormcoming, or ping me in the Discord chat if you'd prefer a custom starter or want to discuss a specific thread you'd like to do! ❤️]

FOR HYTHLODAEUS ↣ ARCHERY PRACTICE ↣ 笠懸け

[warmare]

[There is a bow in her hand once more.

Hayame had not owned a single thing in her own world. The clothes on her back, the weapons she fought with, the supplies she made use of... All of it had belonged to the stable master who had bred her. She had always known they were not truly hers. It wasn't until Horos that she had possessed things that felt like they were hers, even if it were a paltry handful of items... But then they'd just been gone, just like Horos was gone, and again... She'd had nothing.

But those "centaurs" in Alenroux had given her a bow, supplied her with arrows. It was a fine weapon, and more importantly... one built for someone of her size and draw strength. They are not her brother's make... but the arrows are well-made. The problem then that remains... Is that there is a hollow eye socket where an eye used to be, hidden beneath a poor man's eyepatch.

In a field outside of Springstar, Hayame gallops along a dirt path, bow and arrow in hand. The first arrowhead slams into a tree, but only just barely. The next clips the side of a trunk, bark splintering outward. The third hits, but still off-center...

And Hayame slows her gait to a trot, to a walk, circling back to rip an arrow from the last tree, cursing under her breath. If she fails to notice she is not the only one at this impromptu shooting range... Well. That's what happens when a dryad steals (half) your hearing and a demon steals your eye.]

archangel | zenith | savant

[impiety]

i-a. reflecting pool: humiliation (cw: child death/child abuse)

[ Indeed, even in another world, even though his parents were swallowed up by oblivion, he cannot let their sins go without someone knowing that they had happened.

He asks to see the day that his sister died.

Ornate, beautiful walls create a long, winding hallway. Everything about the setting gives the impression of unreasonable and sickening wealth. He pauses as he sees his younger self -- a child that could even be a pre-teen yet. The child walks carefully while holding a glass of milk. It sloshes about and he has to slow his steps, because if he were not careful, the milk might spill on the rugs.

The child walks all the way to a room before opening it up. This room is bare with only a chair set in the middle. A young woman sits in it; her hair a dull shade of blonde. Her body is distorted, twisted in unnatural manner. This does not come from a broken memory, but rather how she looks. When she sees him, she smiles.

But there is someone else in the room with her; a looming dark figure. It is but a shadow; he does not remember what his father looks like anymore and so it is a caricature of a person. He smiles to think that while the sin will play out -- the man's face will not be remembered by anyone.

The gun fires and his poor sister is murdered. Blood splatters all over the chair that she sits on; she slumps over. More red pouring everywhere on the floor. He watches as his child self runs forward; the glass he was so careful to carry smashes on the ground. White mixes with red. Yet he is not able to reach out to his sister.

He is stopped and held back. "If you touch that thing, you'll end up distorting, too!" The voice is warped and barely sounds human. The child can only look on in horror and despair. ]

Ah, Father. When she was suffering, why couldn't you understand her? Why did you have to blame her? Why couldn't you have tried to protect her even a little bit?

i-b. reflecting pool: eternity (cw: body horror)

[ This is more to steel his spirit than anything else. ]

I sometimes wonder if I have gone mad and nothing here is real, but even I could not think up this world.

[ He does not really wish to remember this, but he does wish to garner sympathy. Archangel is nothing if not a little theatrical at times, but he does feel irritated at having people see what his real body looks like.

The scene is pulled up. He marvels over how it is created. The endless black appears above them and below. The area fills with the sounds of inhuman screams -- all of which sounds like it is in pain. When the screams stop, that is when incoherent apologies fill the darkness.

And then there is himself. Speared through the back on top of a Consciousness Orb, he breathes out as he looks upon himself. What a miserable sight it is. He hangs there at a diagonal position; the spike from the orb penetrating through his lower back and coming out his chest. Not only that, but it looks like it has fused in and through his body.

He smiles sadly as he watches himself furiously attempt to dig and pull himself up off the spike, but unable to do so. He can only hang there, suspended in the air; he can only look around at nothing but the dark and listen to the screams. ]

You know, this actually got boring after a few years, but in the beginning, it was quite tortuous.

ii. and some other prompts!

[ BUT FROM A LOG.

If you'd like to comment on the log, cool! If you wanna comment to the prompts on this comment, also cool. I'm down for whatever. ]

iii. wildcard

[ If none of these prompts work, throw something at me for the event! o7 ]

ii-b log prompt!!

[pyojeol]

[If it's a scene he wants, then he gets it. Sooyoung watches from afar at first, glancing around as the other inhabitants of Springstar whisper amongst themselves, shocked and startled. A few break from the crowd to approach Archangel, all of them on edge and on panic.

...If this guy's really dying, then all this gasping and hand-wringing will do more harm than good?

And yet, playing rescuer isn't really Sooyoung's style... Though she has no reason to ignore it either. There's no clock ticking in the background, no Scenario goal she has to fulfill. So she moves forward, pushing the other gaping bystanders aside --]

-- Don't just stand there, idiot! Get a doctor!!

[so that she can attempt to grab hold of this guy and hopefully



perform the heimlich on him. HE'S GASPING AND COUGHING, HE'S CLEARLY CHOKING]

Miya Atsumu | Harbinger | Zenith

[settingup]

I. HIGHSTORM

[ It didn't take long at all for Atsumu to find himself uncomfortable among all the people indulging in memories of things they'll never get back. The very idea that people would want to sit around reminiscing on things that should by all rights rip a giant, gaping hole in their heart is alien to him.

But then, Atsumu has spent an absurd amount of time already trying hard to avoid getting too inside his own head, and languishing in his own memories and the friends and family he has lost.

So while he can be found on the outskirts of The Court, he doesn't stay long before heading off to check out the High Theater instead.

As it turns out, seeing artistic renderings of people's memories doesn't make him a hell of a lot happier though. He's looking moody and not incredibly approachable at the moment, so no one can be blamed if they don't want to directly talk to him. Though woe to the unfortunate soul that gets too close, potentially by happenstance, when Atsumu finally decides to reach out and touch one of those glowing motes. ]


II. SPRINGSTAR

A.

[ The somber atmosphere of Highstorm during this season doesn't suit Atsumu at all. Despite having thrown his hat in the ring with Yima, the stress on quiet and respectful remembrance finally wears on him, and he makes an escape to Springstar for awhile.

He doesn't particularly feel like partying much right now either, but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternative he was surrounded by earlier.

So when people offer him food, he eats it, and when people offer him drinks-- Well, he spends a good while turning them down his first few days in the city. He might have a rotten demeanor, but he's been a surprisingly well behaved boy his entire life, and avoided things like underage drinking. It genuinely takes days for it to really sink in that it doesn't matter what the drinking age in his country is, because his country is gone...

At which point, unfortunately, the caving in isn't made with a clear head or sound judgement at all. So apologies in advance to whoever happens to find a tall teenager sitting down next to them, and dramatically flopping against their side. An earlier meal landed him with an extra set of furry ears and tail that might look new for those who have met him or just seen him around, or it might seem perfectly normal and probably something that was always there for a person who has never met this kid in their life.

Because here's the thing: he's not being all that discerning about who he's going up to and leaning against right now. ]


B.

[ One nasty hangover was all Atsumu needed to steer him away from any other nights of binge drinking. He spent a day in abject misery, before he went back out to wander around the streets again. He's not yet ready to head back to Highstorm, and all the moody ceremony happening there, so at some point he wanders into the gardens of Springstar instead.

Only to find himself saddled with a seedling he's expected to plant, and a partner that's been roped into helping him do it.

He's staring down at the little thing in his hand, face blank as one new (temporary) ear twitches once in agitation. ]

So we just stick this in dirt and it'll be fine, right?


III. ALENROUX

[ Celebrations are all well and good, but the party has to end at some point, doesn't it? Atsumu isn't particularly skilled or qualified for what Kathova has quietly pulled him aside and asked for help with, but he'd been so fast to promise to help Yima further her goals.

So despite his own misgivings from the stories he's heard, he finds himself stepping foot onto the farming grounds of Alenroux, keeping mostly to himself as he watches the workers quickly and methodically pack up and make their way to safety while the sun starts to hang low in the sky.

If he was smart he would have found someone to latch onto quickly, in order stay safe and protected during his search for the missing Shard that Yima's hoping to get back safely.

If he was smarter, he would have accepted this was well beyond his capabilities, and not come here at all.

But there's a lot going on inside Atsumu's head right now, and in no small part he's motivated to push forward by the Shard Yima already gave him, safely tucked away in a draw back in his room in Highstorm. It's hard to say if this will actually do much of anything to further Yima's long term goals, but he figures he was asked to help for a reason.

So despite how visibly unsettled and nervous he looks, Atsumu grabs a hoverboard and heads towards the woods.

If he's lucky maybe someone will try and step in to join him before he reaches them.

If he's less lucky maybe it's not until he's already in the woods that someone finds him, with unnerving sounds closing in on him and his new companion.

And if he's truly unlucky, maybe those unnerving sounds have already found him before help does. ]

III

[vapour]

Wow, coming out here to search this place by yourself is pretty gutsy, but you entered the woods without anyone, too?

Impressive.

[ Childe drops down from his hoverboard, well aware of the sounds. The problem is these stupid things are a lot less amazing in speed than he expected and trying to run away from predators on one of these (in the dark, in the woods, and on this new piece of gear that none of them have had time to really get the hang of maneuvering) is probably a bad idea. Accidentally smashing into trees or getting your head taken off from a sudden low heavy branch or a fallen tree isn't exactly much better than getting mauled, afterall. Their best bet is to just dispose of whatever's decided Atsumu looks like a tasty thing to eat head on so they can get any idea of what's lurking in these woods. ]

Still, sounds like you gained some company having a hungry little fanclub stalking you; and they're just about ready to pounce. You like that sort of popularity, or shall we get rid of them?

Fans can be pretty vicious.

amos burton | zenith | exalt

[baltimores]

[ closed starters to follow! plotting comment, arii#6412, cadiai for plotting. ]

kaeya —

[baltimores]

[ He doesn't want to be here.

Well, no — he does. Amos does want to be in Springstar, and he does want to find Kaeya, but he has other things he wants to do, and his discord is tugging at him, pissing him off, making him want to go back to Highstorm. Now, actually, considering how long he's been at this.

But he can't. Every time it feels like he's going to find Kaeya, finally get the chance to talk to him, Kaeya isn't there. Every time, his frustration mounts, and he's about ready to call this a wasted day, just go back to Highstorm, fine, if Kaeya wants to avoid him then see if he fucking cares—

He still cares.

And it's as he's dodging some of the festivities — though his blackened sclera and irritable, no-bullshit body language are probably helping keep revellers away from him, too — that he spots something in an alleyway.

Or more like someone, some of the light — the fucking light, this is hell, why would anyone willingly be here — highlighting that blue hair.

Amos doesn't bother to hide the fact that he's coming over; Kaeya's not getting away from him this time. He's about ready to give him a piece of his mind when he finds that stepping into the alley's shadows is like a soothing sort of balm; when he realizes that being in the same space as him floods him with relief more than anything else.

Not that he still isn't annoyed. ]

There you are. [ He removes the hood from his head, crosses his arms over his chest. ] The fuck, Blue? What're you doing?

[ This isn't like before, when Kaeya would have every reason to avoid Amos, so — despite the irritation in his voice — it's a genuine question. Just stay and talk to him this time, maybe? ]

Silco ❋ Harbinger ❋ Zenith

[zauneyete]

Highstorm ↝ About and/or the High Theater

[ The eternal night in Highstorm has grown more chill with each passing day, not that Silco noticed it with the rapid chilling of his shard, given how... out of balance he feels in the recent days. The chill is a good reason to wear gloves, to cover up his hand -- and the brand that now lay there -- and Silco had always donned multiple layers of clothing. It may be lined, and a little warmer, but he looks altogether mostly the same as he always does. Neat, put together. Scar covered, eyebrow drawn in, a streak of white in his hair, it's all right, and perfect -- until one can notice that his mismatched gaze looks closer to heterochromia now, with both eyes set in a sea of black. Only one eye glowed, in the eternal night of Highstorm, but it's there, all the same.

He avoided the square, where there were memories and loved ones supposedly on display. Perhaps he would find curiosities there later, but for now... Silco kept his motions squarely to other locations within the city of eternal night. The markets had gotten a single visit, but he left within fifteen minutes, after he realized that people watched him, or would try to close their booths on his approach.

There's of course, the bar scene, but other than a relatively early drink here and there, Silco is noticeably absent from the locations within Highstorm.

The Gallery is the easiest place, and he's there tonight (what night? Does it matter?) observing the plethora of worlds that others came from. Silco does not linger at family dinners, or scenes of happiness. No, the man lingered in front of those locations of misery, anger, or hate. He's in front of one, of a ship, on the high seas. The storm raged about the small figures on the boat, and the figures appear to be screaming at one another, an angry image of a confrontation, two in particular wield swords and look to be in the middle of a duel.

One of the motes of light drifted closer, and two blackened eyes looked left and right, before he reached out to touch one with a gloved hand. ]

Springstar ↝ Lurking About The Psychagogía

[ It's easy to disappear, when there are so many people about. The Psychagogía is thrumming with excitement, people in resplendent outfits, delighting in an array of hedonism and indulgences. The drinks are on display, and while Silco suspiciously was willing to sniff around them, he lurked to the shadows, kept to the edges of the alleyways in Springstart, looked over his shoulder constantly. Two black sclera were covered by a pair of shades -- helpfully given to him by Lottie -- which cut down on the bright sun overhead. Still, Silco was dressed from head to toe, jacket to silver-toed boots, and gloves still covered his hands. He looks dressed for chill nights, but there's nothing to say that the heat seemed to bother him.

He was in front of a vendor, when caught sight of, leaning forward to inspect a drink from behind shades. It's difficult to hear the peddler, given the raucous sounds of the crowd, but it's difficult to tell what the man is selling. Silco is deliberating, a hand drug down his lips as he considered the proposal, before he reached out, to swirl the drink, inspecting it.

Wonder what will happen with that? Well, Bottoms up. ]

Springstar ↝ Alley

[ For all of the excitement in Springstar, Silco doesn't hover for long. Other than the idle curiosities, he is not here to linger. He hates this place, with its too-bright lights. He hates the danger implicit in being here, around what he could only call enemies. It's dangerous, and he doesn't wish for a repeat of last month. He slipped into an alley, away from the bustle, and lit a cigar at the entrance, hovering in the shade, watching the people mill by.

He's halfway through his cigar when he paced a bit more, back, and forth, in the alley, as if he were pondering something -- considering --

His head whipped over his shoulder, the at the first sign of someone peering into the alley. His cigars were foul, nasty little things -- and a cloud of the stuff hovered around his head, as he peered behind him. Whether they ducked into the alley to escape the press of people out in the pathways, or if you came to relieve themselves, it's all the same. The man eyed whoever stepped into the alley with suspicion, his blackened gaze hidden behind the sunglasses. ]

What do you want?

[ He asked, irritably. ]

Wildcard!

[ Write your own! Silco will be about the manor a fair bit, around Highstorm, and he may stop by the reflecting pool, but only to observe! If you would like a closed starter, please feel free to hit me up on the Discord/plurk! ]

checkin on ur boss brooding in an alley, as you do,

[cutlery]

[ Compared to Silco, Sebastian has been having plenty of fun in Springstar. Granted, this is partially because once the festivities had gotten started in both cities, he had also promptly decided that his Discord was something that needed to be at least partially dealt with. The sensitivity to the sunlight of Springstar was intolerable when combined with the cacophony of Gen and Hayame essentially fighting in his head. So once his Discord was reduced and he found them gone? Why, that was worthy of celebrating itself, to say nothing of losing the darker eyes and all their troubles.

It's as he’s in the thrum of a crowd that a familiar smell catches his sensitive nose and he pauses to glance in the direction of where it’s coming from. His lips purse into a little smile, and smoothly, Sebastian slips out of the crowd and into the alley, though he notices the pacing before he gets there. If the brusque response bothers him, it certainly doesn’t show. ]

You should switch up your preferred cigars a bit, you know. [ Sebastian taps the tip of his nose with a playful smile ] Anyone with a sensitive nose will pick you out even in a crowd.

[ Silco may not have asked for this advice, but he’s certainly getting it anyways… But it is something that at least thinks Silco might appreciate knowing, cautious (paranoid) as he seemed to be, so it’s Sebastian trying to be helpful more than trying to be an ass. To actually answer the question, he just gives a simple shrug. ]

Call it checking in if you would like. I could not help but notice you pace so, in this case.

Gray | Advocate | unharmonized

[gravings]

SPRINGSTAR

A. the crowds

[ Even if Gray has become used to populous city life, the merry crush of festival revelers at full blast is still a bit much for her. But holing up and hiding would be entirely too miserable for her, and she should take this chance to get to know more of this world, so she dons her most comforting hood and ventures out into the teeming excitement of the city.

When the crowds seem to get especially thick and rowdy and it feels especially hard to breathe, she attempts to screw her head back on with a few coping techniques. Beneath the shroud of her cloak, she presses her hand firmly to her heart, counting the beats; and when that isn't enough and she starts to feel lightheaded, she begins to chant to herself until the familar words crowd out the bees between her ears, and she no longer notices if there's anyone else around to hear her strange mantra. ]

Gray... rave... crave... deprave...

B. the drink

[ Eventually, an overly jovial and underly responsible vendor notices that Gray seems a little stressed. He offers her a remedy: a sweet ale with calming properties. Perfectly safe and also delicious, he insists. At this point Gray is grateful for any crutch to lean on, and she doesn't want to be rude either, so she thanks him and accepts a mug of the stuff. As advertised, it's sweet and refreshing even to her inexperienced tongue, and the whole of it goes down easy.

Not half an hour later she's got a stumble to her step. On the upside, she is nicely warm and relaxed. Maybe too relaxed, because she doesn't feel bothered at all when she walks into someone, gently loses her balance like she's playing at 0.75x speed, and continues toward the floor where she may or may not be content to sit there for a while... unless the someone she bumped into feels like propping her up before she gets there. ]

C. the seedlings

[ Give her a bit of time for the effects of the ale to wear off, then she's trucking on to plant some seedlings, a much safer and more wholesome enterprise. A little pot is deposited in her hands without her asking, so now all she needs is someone to plant its contents with. She scans the loose crowd for a likely partner. If someone else approaches her, then all the better, but she really ought to stretch her flabby social muscles and take the initiative.

If it's a stranger or acquaintance, she'll approach them with increasing nervousness, tightening her seedling pot to her chest. But she will get there eventually, struggling to look whoever she's talking to directly in the eyes. ]

Um, I have this... so if you want to... or if you don't mind......

[ She trails off, trusting that her meaning will be self-evident(??).

On the other hand, if she spots someone she knows reasonably well, she'll make a beeline for them with a peep of pep to her step, just grateful that she won't have to approach a stranger. If it's someone she was comfortable with on Horos, they'll also get a relieved smile. ]

Hello. Do you want to plant a seedling together?

D. wildcard

(( Even though these prompts are all Springstar, Gray will also be available in Highstorm and Alenroux if you'd like to do things with her there! Her plotting comment is here, or you can hmu on Discord. ))

for kaeya

[gravings]

[ Gray wonders what it is about the church experience that persists throughout worlds. Maybe the Mystery generated by old, unwavering faith is what gives religious buildings their weighty air. She never found the feeling comforting in her home world, but now that she's in her third world, she can find some comfort in the vaguely familiar if nothing else.

With regards to Ciel, Gray isn't turning into a nun any time soon. She puts no stock in the goodwill of faceless, faraway entities. No, she's loitering around the Church of Helios out of curiosity. There have been Shard-related whisperings lately, and as a person whose soul has become tied to her Shard, it seems worthwhile and important to find out more. She spends time simply people-watching and asking the parishioners innocuous questions. No one shoos her away despite her fears that she's being a nuisance.

And then out of the blue, she sees blue — hair, that is, followed by an eyepatch, and to her that means one person. ]

Kaeya!

[ The surprise is evident in her rarely raised voice. Without much thought, she's already running over with her cloak aflutter. With even less thought — not for the possibility that he may have forgotten her, nor for the chance that he might resent her for leaving Achamoth — when she reaches him, she tosses herself at him for a hug that is warm and grateful. ]

Rosaria ❉ harbinger ❉ still unharmonized

[cryomance]

[ Closed starters. Please poke me at dreadwyrm#0962 or draconia if you want a personalized starter 👍 ]

➻ Dextera

[cryomance]

[ A rare trip to Springstar has landed her in the midst of the Psychagogía for reasons that aren't very difficult to decipher: exotic liquor-tasting. It's probably the only way she'd willingly endure the constant brightness of the city, and when is she ever really going to get the chance to imbibe all the best celebratory beers and ales an alien world has to offer?

She's on her fourth or fifth stop in the drink tour, enjoying a fresh mug of something that tastes borderline divine when she spots someone also in the throes of merriment. A stranger, for sure, but one with enough food in his grip to actually make her raise a brow.

Well... far be it for her to judge when it's all free, and everyone is perfectly happy to plow all the newcomers with enough food and drink to burst. But the smell. Please tell her it's at least coming from something on his plate. ]

You didn't hold back on visiting every single stall, did you? You don't have to scramble to try them all in one day, you know.

[ Says the woman trying ever beer in one day... ]

eustace | exalt | mysteryghost.png (unharmonized)

[lockedon]

[ three-game val is a mistake. some closed starters so i don't die (except i'm dying already). ]

johnny.

[lockedon]

[ He's not sure what to make of the letter when he first gets it, surprised not only that its managed to fall into his hands but also that he's been remembered in the first place. As with Horos, he isn't the only person around - and surely not the only Shardbearer around - with ears or another animalistic features, and he's pretty sure he'd kept to himself enough that he hadn't left much of an impression on anyone.

Apparently he'd been wrong on that front.

His naturally suspicious nature means he spends some time wondering if there's some secret catch to the letter, but in the end the promise of a nice new outfit appeals to his practical money-saving sensibilities (RIP his ample Kenoma funds....) and he makes his way to the store, flyer in hand. Turns out there's no catch, not immediately anyway, and the initial consultation goes well enough that he lingers in the store after it's done to do a little extra shopping. The prices are reasonable and the fabric of good quality (as far as he can tell). He'll need new outfits eventually anyway.

Because he's JOBLESS and POOR, he sifts through the discount rack, though the more he pulls out the more he begins to regret his choice. Half the shirts don't even fall to his waist? Why is this one covered in pink birds? What is even happening here?

Send help. ]

misa amane | exalt | zenith

[lifespanned]

( closed starters are going here! feel free to ping me if you want one. )

howl

[lifespanned]

[ When Yima's request comes, it's one that Misa had been expecting— being the leader of a place like Zenith must come with lots and lots of (dangerous) missions to do. It was only a matter of time before they were asked to go out on something like this, and to be honest, she's more than willing. The faster she helps Yima, the faster she'll be reunited with Light, after all... it can't be that hard, looking for one shard, least of all if she partners up with someone really strong.

Still, the one part that does end up being a surprise is running into Howl at the set out. Somehow, someway, she hasn't been able to catch him all this time, despite hearing vague whispers of him being around. Being able to reunite with him puts her in high spirits, even if she has to wait through the boring debrief of the situation until she's able to drag him along to pair up.

Only when they've made it out of earshot from the other groups does she pipe up, pushing along their hoverboard without actually getting on it. ]

Soooo, do we even need to use this thing, or can you just teleport us there? Who knows what kind of tricks you've learned, getting here early and all, hee hee.

closed starters

[galdorleod]

((contact me if you'd like to plot anything with howl! 💕))

for gen

[galdorleod]

[ Seeing Gen among the volunteers to venture into Alenroux was a surprise to Howl. Although he does not know the young man very well, they clashed enough times in Horos for him to get a feel for who he is, and the ornery delinquent would not have been the wizard's first (or second, or tenth) guess for who would answer Yima's call. Howl finds himself glancing at Gen during the briefing, eyeing his missing limb and the strange protrusions on the top of his head. Are those... ears? The missing arm, he remembers that, but what's up with the ears? Gen looks different every time Howl sees him. And not in a fun way like dyeing your hair, but in a weird way.

When it comes time for the group breaks up into small teams, Howl does not approach Gen — but this doesn't mean Howl isn't keeping an eye on him. Hours later, when night starts to approach, a black shadow passes across the setting sun. It's the only warning Gen has before a large, black winged creature whumpfs into the grassy space beside where he stopped to rest.

The creature raises its head to look at him. It's Howl. He is smiling, the way an adult would approach a disagreeable child with a pre-emptive smile. ]

Tired already?

Kainé

[brutalizer]

[ going to make closed starters because i'm coming in late! if you want to plot anything out, whether your character has met ms. potty mouth yet or not, feel free to pm me c: ]

set | more closed starters aw yea

[redsoil]

[ here i come late to the party as well, but i have Things i promised i'd do ]

COLISEUM ANTICS | OTA + CLOSED!

[redsoil]

[ God of war. God of violence. Anarchist and trickster. The divine evil and sower of disorder himself had descended upon Springstar's most bloody of sanctuaries within days of his arrival, and upended the cultivated revelry in a handful of fights. Two veterans, a rising star only two months into her prime, a janitor and a blind man it took to finally exhaust Set; using battle to wring out his despair was not the healthiest decision to make, but win or lose, the relief brought on by causing and experiencing pain would be how he could make due in the wake of his world's unmaking.

The organizers offer him a role, when he returns. Their way of trying to control the uncontrollable, to induct one of the shard-bearers into their ranks and retain some measure of authority over the Coliseum's ebb and flow. We'd like to cast you as a heel, his mouse-faced 'coordinator' says to him, in the back of the amphitheatre with her tidy notes fluttering in her shaking hands. Now, please don't take that the wrong way, Mister Set -- we understand that you don't respond well to anyone telling you what to do! Far from that, we only want to guide your image before the eyes of our public, and we think they'll respond very well to your particular brand of... ah, chaos. They'll love to hate you!

What choice does he have, in this choiceless world? He only wants to break something and satisfy himself.

She gives him his choice, once he agrees to the premise; a set of three individuals, selected both for their eagerness to set their might against his, as well as their general theme: the fresh-faced heroine with everything to prove, the dour-eyed militant seeking to make a name for themselves apart from their prestigious family, and the drunkard ex-champion, rising from the ashes to avenge their former student. All three are proper faces to his heel. Set hates them all on principle. ]

I will fight them all at once. Open the floor to anyone who wishes to join -- all 'heels' and 'faces'. If you want true revelry, you must be willing to abandon your control.

— SEBASTIAN.

[ Perhaps that is how he finds himself embroiled, in media res with an onslaught of motion from the heroic trio. They work together better than he'd thought; a little hesitant, a little pathetic in their banter and a little too friendly with his presumed 'character', but all the same. It's like watching fledgling warriors trip over their weaponry, the first day of battle. He's worked with less, led less.

Other fighters join, to hound the trio, to harry him -- he never knows who is going to turn up and what their goal is at the time, so he treats every one of them as a potential rival ( enemy ). The latest of which he rounds on with sudden alarm, the red of his eyes thinning as he strikes out with a vicious kick of his heel; the pulse of his decision has begun to pick up within him, but it will be a day before he opens himself up to the leader of Meridian's forces and tells him of his decision. Until then, he relies only on his natural ability and tactical knowledge --

His nose warns him, before his eyes catch on Sebastian: a man who looks well-mannered and austere, but smells -- it's gloriously obscene, and it draws him in like flame to oxygen. Set's nose guides him to kin and kith, to long-buried corpses and treasures below bloody sands, to gods and monsters and impure things; to the absence of something vital that most others have. He snarls, briefly - a baring of Discord-prominent eyeteeth and the hook of his fingers, claws curling forth like that of a cat. There's nothing to say, he's not exactly a showman, and combat is a conversation in and of itself.

So, he abandons the press of the heroic trio, to lunge for Sebastian in question. Is he another foe, then? Another body to draw Set's sharp attention? ]

— EMET-SELCH.

[ Eventually, the afternoon draws to an end. Even Set, made for might and longevity, finds himself battered and weary by the end of the hearty spar, his ears ringing and lungs working hard to seize at each breath. He thinks that he can hear birdsong, akin to the twittering of sandpipers darting across the bank of the Nile; really, it's just the gossipping of a small gathering of bright-eyed fans who seem to be actively interested in the redheaded god of war. He has fans and they are young, energetic and exhausting in their theatrical shyness.

One moment, they're trying to catch his attention and the next, they are closing ranks to shrill faintly about the 'psychology of the fight', or something. His brow creases and mouth thins, first at them and then further on, further into the tiered seating of the amphitheatre. He sees someone that he knows. The pinched face of that holier-than-thou bastard from the tree. Emet-Selch instantly irritates Set, far more than the little fanclub; he puts on his best sneer, bypassing the gasping group with a graceful leap into the stands. ]

Oh, it's the illustrious and all-knowing one, [ dryly said, as he tugs his hair from his throat and fans at his overheated form. He never felt such a way, when he was a god. His own words drip with delighted disdain, some sort of natural animosity that comes with his domain, with how he was created. ]

Going to make me pay some price for your thoughts this time, Emet-Selch?

— GEN.

[ -- somewhere in the midst of the onslaught, he'd lost sight of one of the figures who had come and gone from the afternoon's fray. It's only in the aftermath, long after the Coliseum was closing to reset for the evening attractions, that he finds Gen once more. There's a pretty bruise streaking across one of Set's cheekbones, courtesy of a mean little trick pulled on him by the dark-haired young man, and he wears it alongside the chilly little bitch-glare that seems to settle so naturally upon his brow and frowning mouth. Guy's just. Got that sort of meanness to him, especially lately. ]

Not bad.

[ He utters it, and while it comes out a compliment, the way Set's expression narrows into a smile is serpentine and wicked. ]

I think out of everyone, you were one of my favorites. Nasty, shrewd -- you weren't boring at all.

[ Quite the opposite, he thinks. ]

How are your injuries? Shall I treat you to something hearty to make up for treating you so roughly?

[ The way Set speaks is sly, the curling vowels and strangely musical lilt of his foreign accent makes him come off as far more coy than he might mean to be. Lowering his voice as he proposes to Gen, he also leans himself in, bridging the space between the two of them without hesitation ( or modesty, really ), and it really... comes off like he's propositioning this guy. Uh oh. HE MEANS DRINKS!!! ]