![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
- !event,
- arknights: gavial,
- baroque: koriel xii (dextera),
- bastard!!: dark schneider,
- boy's abyss: gen minegishi,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- fire emblem: byleth eisner,
- fire emblem: claude von riegan,
- fire emblem: dimitri a. blaiddyd,
- fire emblem: yuri leclerc,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- jinba: hayame,
- legend of zelda (the): midna,
- locked tomb (the): john gaius,
- oc: liem talbott,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- vampire hunter d: d
Toxic Love: The Exalt Oracle
NOTHING GOES OFF WITHOUT A HITCH
You feel it, the moment that the Exalt oracle opens its eyes, like something that rips through your body from head to toe, something that feel like fire, wild. It sears into your veins, like acid and fire, something that triggers something that makes you want to run, or perhaps turn and face something head on. Before you can find what sets you off – if you could find it. Bearers know what this sensation is, it is different but the same at its core. The emotions, the feelings it sparks are different – but in the end, you know it for what it is: An Oracle.
Kenos groans from the awakening, like a part of a whole sparks to life, and though you do not know what it is that they want yet, you understand and know their existence down to your core. That feeling to attack or defend, perhaps even flee, does not leave you, but instead it fills your veins, you feel it thrumming, pulsing, like the beat of a heart – if one has one. With the sense of awakening, bearers know the shape of what comes next, they will be asked to act, to do. You do not know how it will happen, or what the Exalt will ask of you, but the knowledge that it will happen is borne from experience, not from the Oracle itself.
As you begin to move, to… look, you are not long for this day, it clouds your mind, a hazy, drowsy feeling takes over, the encroaching dark that threatens to swarm, crowding from the sides, taking over your vision – until… it fully takes over, and Bearers are put into a deep slumber.
When bearers awaken, it’s difficult to make sense of what your sleepy eyes see. Structures begin to swim into view, and they like tall figures looking down upon you. It’s difficult to tell what they are at first, but as you wake up, you begin to see, they are not people, or creatures, but long spore-like stalks. Some have ribbed overgrowths that you can see, and some end in growths that ripple and hang over, but have no “cap”. They tower over the bearers, like towering spires and buildings, on all sides, as if they were trapped in a ring of them. As bearers look around them they will notice tall green spires around them as well, and it takes a moment for things to really settle in. Mushrooms. Blades of grass. The springy moss about them is almost as tall as they are, low to the ground. There are pebbles that appear as boulders, and the thunderous steps nearby indicate an insect or arachnid walking by, far larger than you. There is a stillness to this space, like a held breath, and as the bearers awake, and regard one another, and then to the center of the circle is – a small effigy in the center.
It is here, the Exalt Oracle, and you feel compelled to regard it, before you are given a pang down to your core. It compels you – pleads, asks, begs, and demands, all in one – for what it wishes for. Precious mementos and precious items that they are missing. They have been lost, and they are somewhere within the Liosachán. It beseeches the bearers to return its items, and begs they be returned here to the circle. There are no words, but there is a pleading sensation, a feeling that these items are treasured by this Oracle.
You feel at your sides, your pockets, and find one item on your person, a weapon, a companion, whatever it is you would bring with you to the conflict, shrunk down to a tiny size with you.
Stay steadfast, bearers, and capture theflag Oracle!
Kenos groans from the awakening, like a part of a whole sparks to life, and though you do not know what it is that they want yet, you understand and know their existence down to your core. That feeling to attack or defend, perhaps even flee, does not leave you, but instead it fills your veins, you feel it thrumming, pulsing, like the beat of a heart – if one has one. With the sense of awakening, bearers know the shape of what comes next, they will be asked to act, to do. You do not know how it will happen, or what the Exalt will ask of you, but the knowledge that it will happen is borne from experience, not from the Oracle itself.
As you begin to move, to… look, you are not long for this day, it clouds your mind, a hazy, drowsy feeling takes over, the encroaching dark that threatens to swarm, crowding from the sides, taking over your vision – until… it fully takes over, and Bearers are put into a deep slumber.
When bearers awaken, it’s difficult to make sense of what your sleepy eyes see. Structures begin to swim into view, and they like tall figures looking down upon you. It’s difficult to tell what they are at first, but as you wake up, you begin to see, they are not people, or creatures, but long spore-like stalks. Some have ribbed overgrowths that you can see, and some end in growths that ripple and hang over, but have no “cap”. They tower over the bearers, like towering spires and buildings, on all sides, as if they were trapped in a ring of them. As bearers look around them they will notice tall green spires around them as well, and it takes a moment for things to really settle in. Mushrooms. Blades of grass. The springy moss about them is almost as tall as they are, low to the ground. There are pebbles that appear as boulders, and the thunderous steps nearby indicate an insect or arachnid walking by, far larger than you. There is a stillness to this space, like a held breath, and as the bearers awake, and regard one another, and then to the center of the circle is – a small effigy in the center.
It is here, the Exalt Oracle, and you feel compelled to regard it, before you are given a pang down to your core. It compels you – pleads, asks, begs, and demands, all in one – for what it wishes for. Precious mementos and precious items that they are missing. They have been lost, and they are somewhere within the Liosachán. It beseeches the bearers to return its items, and begs they be returned here to the circle. There are no words, but there is a pleading sensation, a feeling that these items are treasured by this Oracle.
You feel at your sides, your pockets, and find one item on your person, a weapon, a companion, whatever it is you would bring with you to the conflict, shrunk down to a tiny size with you.
Stay steadfast, bearers, and capture the
SURVIVAL OF THE SMALLEST ( DAYS 1 - 5 )
Unlike the still, stale apocalypse that had been the setting of the Iconoclast Oracle, the greenhouse is lush and vibrant with activity.
The Effigy present within yearns to be reunited with what belongs to it, fixated upon the five items lost within the greenhouse. The swell of its longing fills all Shardbearers, urging them to take action, claim the items and present all five to it to attain victory for that Faction.
Over a period of ten days, Shardbearers of both factions will have to navigate environmental dangers, and the normal procession of time, as the greenhouse is going about its daily routine. Workers plod around like towering goliaths, weeding and watering and pruning the greenhouse's contents. The Liosachán's native population of fae begin to take notice of the newcomers in their midst, emerging from grassy mounds hidden in the natural landscape to spy and pry about the newness surrounding them.
For Shardbearers demonstrating particular selflessness, favoring the protection and defense of another, the Effigy responds warmly from the third day onward — rewarding them with a sign of their dutiful nature towards others in the form of fairy wings, the form of which are unique to the Shardbearer themselves.
DAY FOUR. The sudden thunderous sound of a storm begins. No, not a storm, the tumble and crash of water pouring down upon the greenhouse — the workers of the Liosachán perform their routines faithfully, after all. In watering the garden, the danger of the environment threatens to overtake Shardbearers and their work alike. Drops of water fall, their size equal or larger than even the tallest of characters, and trickles of water muddy the ground in the form of raging rapids.
The security of Meridian and Zenith's camps is even called into question, because as simple as the act of watering a garden is, it is a nightmarish situation for such itty bitty Bearers to be in!
DAY FIVE. By day five, the fae of the Liosachán no longer lurk and linger in the corner of one's eye. They make themselves known, having prepared a banquet below one of the mushrooms, within sight of the Effigy. A table draped in spider-silk lace awaits any Bearer who comes near enough, the sagging piece of driftwood polished to a gleam with golden sap, leaving it waterproofed and pretty to behold. A handful of corks serve as seating, with most of the fae draping themselves across scraps of cotton as though they are simply at a picnic.
They invitingly wave to Shardbearers, chattering brightly in their foreign, lilting tongue, waving tiny sandwiches and little clay pots full of jams and honeys, brandishing sugared berries that they bite into with gusto, staining their arms and faces in swathes of blue and red. They clearly are welcoming to whomever comes upon them, urging them to avail themselves to the bounty they have prepared. Perhaps some characters know better than to eat the food of the fae, recalling legends and lore about the mystical properties and implicit bargains made in becoming a guest. Perhaps some have no idea, and are simply hungry enough to dig in!
The Effigy present within yearns to be reunited with what belongs to it, fixated upon the five items lost within the greenhouse. The swell of its longing fills all Shardbearers, urging them to take action, claim the items and present all five to it to attain victory for that Faction.
Over a period of ten days, Shardbearers of both factions will have to navigate environmental dangers, and the normal procession of time, as the greenhouse is going about its daily routine. Workers plod around like towering goliaths, weeding and watering and pruning the greenhouse's contents. The Liosachán's native population of fae begin to take notice of the newcomers in their midst, emerging from grassy mounds hidden in the natural landscape to spy and pry about the newness surrounding them.
Naturally curious, and equally dangerous, the fae of the Liosachán are Highstorm natives. They range in cool coloration, from soft violet-greys to deep stormy blues, and wear clothes fashioned from of goods pilfered from the pockets of workers, dropped on the ground or handcrafted from the environment itself. Wielding bits of copper tightly wound into blades and spears, they are a ferocious and cunning little people who seek to trick, trap and toy with Shardbearers. Direct violence is anathema to them, but violence that happens as a result of falling to one of their ploys is a badge of honor.DAY ONE - THREE. The Effigy initially urges Shardbearers to build bases of operation for defense and practicality, as surviving ten days without supporting one another is a surefire way to meet a grisly, tiny little end. Resources must be gathered: gather food and water, prepare shelter, establish unity and organization and prepare to set off into the wilds soon.
For Shardbearers demonstrating particular selflessness, favoring the protection and defense of another, the Effigy responds warmly from the third day onward — rewarding them with a sign of their dutiful nature towards others in the form of fairy wings, the form of which are unique to the Shardbearer themselves.
DAY FOUR. The sudden thunderous sound of a storm begins. No, not a storm, the tumble and crash of water pouring down upon the greenhouse — the workers of the Liosachán perform their routines faithfully, after all. In watering the garden, the danger of the environment threatens to overtake Shardbearers and their work alike. Drops of water fall, their size equal or larger than even the tallest of characters, and trickles of water muddy the ground in the form of raging rapids.
The security of Meridian and Zenith's camps is even called into question, because as simple as the act of watering a garden is, it is a nightmarish situation for such itty bitty Bearers to be in!
DAY FIVE. By day five, the fae of the Liosachán no longer lurk and linger in the corner of one's eye. They make themselves known, having prepared a banquet below one of the mushrooms, within sight of the Effigy. A table draped in spider-silk lace awaits any Bearer who comes near enough, the sagging piece of driftwood polished to a gleam with golden sap, leaving it waterproofed and pretty to behold. A handful of corks serve as seating, with most of the fae draping themselves across scraps of cotton as though they are simply at a picnic.
They invitingly wave to Shardbearers, chattering brightly in their foreign, lilting tongue, waving tiny sandwiches and little clay pots full of jams and honeys, brandishing sugared berries that they bite into with gusto, staining their arms and faces in swathes of blue and red. They clearly are welcoming to whomever comes upon them, urging them to avail themselves to the bounty they have prepared. Perhaps some characters know better than to eat the food of the fae, recalling legends and lore about the mystical properties and implicit bargains made in becoming a guest. Perhaps some have no idea, and are simply hungry enough to dig in!
UNWILLING TEN-ANTS ( DAYS SIX - EIGHT )
The scuttling, scrabbling feet of ants crawling over surfaces, winding their way through this grassy playground, has become normal. Their feet thunder as they go about their business, and it seems to be a normal cadence to life here in the underbrush, in the greenhouse. It is normal, and it is has become nothing to really concern oneself with. They are ants, after all, what do they do, but work? Endlessly, continuously.
That is, until the heavy, loud sounds of their feet draw closer to whatever place that the bearers have found to camp in. Whether solitary or as a group, these workers are no longer content to simply ignore the bearers, but they are a curiosity, perhaps even a bother. You have disrupted their lifestyle. The sleepy pattern of obtain food, return ot the hive, and back out again now has obstacles. Now there are not simply the fairies, who live their own lives and existences, a part of the ecosystem, but now there are these tiny bearers. Fighting, working together, arguing and disagreeing.
You are disruptive to their way of life.
The ants have come to collect on this due, and some bearers that are vulnerable, or perhaps merely caught, are taken away, your weight so light compared to the rest of their burdens that they carry. The strength of these ants is overwhelming, incredible at this size, and try as you might, if you are caught in their strong mandibles, you cannot escape. An ant, after all, carries 1000 times their weight with those powerful jaws. You, bearer, are nothing to them.
They squirrel away the bearers within their hill, a complicated network of tunnels, junctions, and large spaces. Down within, where the air becomes stifling, and stale. The ants guard their pray, and you get the distinct sense that they see you not as people, not even as enemies, but as prey. You will be food – perhaps to the eggs that are gathered within this room, where you can see the stirring of new life, just beneath the surface. You may not have very long to live, if these little larvae get their mouths on you.
Or perhaps, your friends will save you? Once it is discovered that bearers are missing, the trail of ant prints on the ground is apparent – they are not stealthy creatures – and the feet lead from the locations of several kidnapped bearers toward the grainy ant hill that lies not far away. The hill itself swarms with life, with worker ants all over the surface, scuttling about, looking for the next meal for te colony. Or perhaps for more bearers to bring back for their young.
It will be dangerous, bearers, to save your friends. Should you choose to do so, you will be kicking the anthill, and the ants will protect what is theirs. Even if they just took it. Those bearers belong to them, now! Rescuers will find not only your average worker ant, ready to defend, but winged male ants will attack from above, and deeper, within the nest, near where the bearers are kept, lies the strongest ant in the colony: The Queen. Staggeringly large, strong, and vicious, when her subjects begin dying. She will do everything in her power to protect her colony, and that includes killing bearers, if need be. Or trying, at least.
Good luck rescuing your friends, bearers!
That is, until the heavy, loud sounds of their feet draw closer to whatever place that the bearers have found to camp in. Whether solitary or as a group, these workers are no longer content to simply ignore the bearers, but they are a curiosity, perhaps even a bother. You have disrupted their lifestyle. The sleepy pattern of obtain food, return ot the hive, and back out again now has obstacles. Now there are not simply the fairies, who live their own lives and existences, a part of the ecosystem, but now there are these tiny bearers. Fighting, working together, arguing and disagreeing.
You are disruptive to their way of life.
The ants have come to collect on this due, and some bearers that are vulnerable, or perhaps merely caught, are taken away, your weight so light compared to the rest of their burdens that they carry. The strength of these ants is overwhelming, incredible at this size, and try as you might, if you are caught in their strong mandibles, you cannot escape. An ant, after all, carries 1000 times their weight with those powerful jaws. You, bearer, are nothing to them.
They squirrel away the bearers within their hill, a complicated network of tunnels, junctions, and large spaces. Down within, where the air becomes stifling, and stale. The ants guard their pray, and you get the distinct sense that they see you not as people, not even as enemies, but as prey. You will be food – perhaps to the eggs that are gathered within this room, where you can see the stirring of new life, just beneath the surface. You may not have very long to live, if these little larvae get their mouths on you.
Or perhaps, your friends will save you? Once it is discovered that bearers are missing, the trail of ant prints on the ground is apparent – they are not stealthy creatures – and the feet lead from the locations of several kidnapped bearers toward the grainy ant hill that lies not far away. The hill itself swarms with life, with worker ants all over the surface, scuttling about, looking for the next meal for te colony. Or perhaps for more bearers to bring back for their young.
It will be dangerous, bearers, to save your friends. Should you choose to do so, you will be kicking the anthill, and the ants will protect what is theirs. Even if they just took it. Those bearers belong to them, now! Rescuers will find not only your average worker ant, ready to defend, but winged male ants will attack from above, and deeper, within the nest, near where the bearers are kept, lies the strongest ant in the colony: The Queen. Staggeringly large, strong, and vicious, when her subjects begin dying. She will do everything in her power to protect her colony, and that includes killing bearers, if need be. Or trying, at least.
Good luck rescuing your friends, bearers!
IN SMALL PACKAGES ( DAYS NINE - TEN )
The day after the ant-pocalypse brings with it the brush of recognition — the Effigy has foreseen the likely victors, and calls to them to approach it once they have suitably recovered. It judges them the ones whom are most devoted to what binds them, loyal to memory and remembrance, and begins to clamor for them to restore to it what belongs rightfully. Thus begins a full day of resting, locating last-minute items, shoring up defenses and preparing for the sprint to the finish line.
Certainly your rivals will not allow you to simply walk to the Effigy unassailed and unchallenged.
Eat, rest, ensure your fellows are close and bolstered, for tomorrow begins the final rally.
On the morning of the tenth day, Meridian Shardbearers approach the Effigy with its five items in hand. In the midst of the mushroom ring, the Effigy stands as it had in the beginning — arms outstretched and back bowed skyward, gnarled fingers seeking contact with that which has been lost to it. It awaits, it strains, and even as it does, it requires one last test of ability. From the shadows of the towering mushrooms, the rasp of scale and soft hiss of a great beast descends upon the fae ring.
A gleaming garden snake, with glossy black and green stripes, blocks the way between approaching Shardbearers and the Effigy.
Between its bright eyes, pressed upon its brow is a scattering of brighter scales that appear to be in the shape of a delicate, three-leafed plant with spiraling patterns for leaves. It braces itself against the approach, and there is no doubt that to claim victory, the serpent must be subdued. Though Meridian approaches with victory in hand, they have not yet attained it — their rival faction and this beast remain in their way.
Certainly your rivals will not allow you to simply walk to the Effigy unassailed and unchallenged.
Eat, rest, ensure your fellows are close and bolstered, for tomorrow begins the final rally.
On the morning of the tenth day, Meridian Shardbearers approach the Effigy with its five items in hand. In the midst of the mushroom ring, the Effigy stands as it had in the beginning — arms outstretched and back bowed skyward, gnarled fingers seeking contact with that which has been lost to it. It awaits, it strains, and even as it does, it requires one last test of ability. From the shadows of the towering mushrooms, the rasp of scale and soft hiss of a great beast descends upon the fae ring.
A gleaming garden snake, with glossy black and green stripes, blocks the way between approaching Shardbearers and the Effigy.
Between its bright eyes, pressed upon its brow is a scattering of brighter scales that appear to be in the shape of a delicate, three-leafed plant with spiraling patterns for leaves. It braces itself against the approach, and there is no doubt that to claim victory, the serpent must be subdued. Though Meridian approaches with victory in hand, they have not yet attained it — their rival faction and this beast remain in their way.
MISSING LINKS ( THROUGHOUT )
As the Effigy desires to be reunited with what belongs to it, the swell of its longing stirs something more within all present Shardbearers.
With that foreign longing arrives knowledge: beyond the five items prized by the Effigy itself, there are other lost things within the greenhouse. Like a compass, each Shardbearer's mind points them in direction after direction, urging them to seek and explore. Implicitly, the thrum of comprehension fills your mind: these are things that do not belong to you, per se, but seek to have your hands ferry them home.
Amidst tangled brush, hidden under doffed acorn cap, tucked away in the belly of a fae's glittering den, lost in the depths of a puddle of spilled water that seems an insurmountable lake now, folded secretly into the petals of a towering, skyscraper-like flower, there are three additional items hidden within the tumultuous landscape that each Shardbearer feels a draw towards. Things that belong to someone else, eager to be reunited with them, but subject to whim.
Upon locating and retrieving one, the Shardbearer is filled with a sense of information — they know who this item belongs to, and they will know that they have a choice. Bonds are fragile things after all, and they exist to be enforced or abused, in order to advance a goal or to deepen a connection. How will you treat someone's precious bond? How will they treat yours?
With that foreign longing arrives knowledge: beyond the five items prized by the Effigy itself, there are other lost things within the greenhouse. Like a compass, each Shardbearer's mind points them in direction after direction, urging them to seek and explore. Implicitly, the thrum of comprehension fills your mind: these are things that do not belong to you, per se, but seek to have your hands ferry them home.
Amidst tangled brush, hidden under doffed acorn cap, tucked away in the belly of a fae's glittering den, lost in the depths of a puddle of spilled water that seems an insurmountable lake now, folded secretly into the petals of a towering, skyscraper-like flower, there are three additional items hidden within the tumultuous landscape that each Shardbearer feels a draw towards. Things that belong to someone else, eager to be reunited with them, but subject to whim.
Upon locating and retrieving one, the Shardbearer is filled with a sense of information — they know who this item belongs to, and they will know that they have a choice. Bonds are fragile things after all, and they exist to be enforced or abused, in order to advance a goal or to deepen a connection. How will you treat someone's precious bond? How will they treat yours?
NOTES
Here are some prompts to set the scene and foundation of the Exalt Oracle!
— The theme of this Oracle is a loose edition of capture the flag, where the Effigy's items can pass through multiple hands within the ten day allotment.
— For additional ideas and fun, it is known that several Shardbearers have concluded their efforts to fulfill the Greenwood Yards' sidequest request.
— All details of the Exalt Oracle can be found here, and questions for the mods can be submitted here.
— For additional ideas and fun, it is known that several Shardbearers have concluded their efforts to fulfill the Greenwood Yards' sidequest request.
— All details of the Exalt Oracle can be found here, and questions for the mods can be submitted here.
no subject
While the calm tone doesn't do much to help Atsumu, the fact that Amos actively hustles to get closer to him, and in turn the monster trying to eat him, does seem to have a more immediate effect, some desperate hope flashing across his face. Though the panic returns at the question.
It's reasonable, of course. His gun. Give him the gun, let him shoot the spider. The problem is the gun is the only thing Atsumu has to wave at the spider if it crawls close again, so if Amos can't shoot it then...
Then the only thing Atsumu has left is his hand, and if a fang manages to clip him........ ]
I ain't even workin' right! I can't shoot it!
[ The reluctance to comply is palpable. He's not calm enough to think to ask if Amos knows how to set it so it does work. ]
no subject
You wouldn't be able to. It's biolocked to me. Didn't exactly have anything that could shoot pure energy where I came from, but we did have that.
[ He pauses his surveying to look back up at the spider, watching it as it watches him. Takes a tentative step forward, testing placing a foot down lightly on one of the web's strands; it shakes a little, but also Amos finds himself pulling his foot back, stickiness clinging to the sole of his boot as he does.
Back to Atsumu. ]
So, way I'm seeing this right now, best bet is you toss me the gun. I could maybe draw the spider over to me, but then you're still stuck there. I could try to come out to you, but think I'd just end up stuck. So.
[ He stretches his hand up, ready to catch something thrown his way. (Ideally his gun. Not a spider, which, yeah, that movement has definitely caught its eyes.)
And, with a friendlier lilt to his voice, ] It's just like sports, right? You toss the ball, then someone else does something with it.
[ Nevermind his lack of knowledge about volleyball, or the way that Atsumu cannot be in an ideal throwing position... Just toss him the gun, man, it's easy! ]
no subject
It makes sense though, doesn't it? And Amos sounds so confident he'll be able to use it and do something about the spider if Atsumu tosses it his way. This is going to be a big leap of faith on Atsumu's part though, to toss aside his own defenses and trust Amos to take care of the very large and looming threat here. So hopefully Amos forgives him if he hesitates for another few seconds before finally muttering-- ]
Fuck it.
[ And chucking the gun as best he can at Amos. Volleyball doesn't involve throwing, and he really is at an absolutely shit angle, but a good arm is a good arm, and Atsumu's always had good aim too. The gun goes right towards him, as does the call of-- ]
I ain't a baseball player!
[ Just to make it clear. All sports are not the same, Amos! ]
no subject
Whether Amos actually has any familiarity with baseball or not doesn't make any difference in his reaction, which is to say, none. He's just grateful that Atsumu finally took the risk — trusts him enough to take the risk — and that he has a good arm. Maybe Atsumu could be a baseball player??
Hand outstretched, Amos is just able to make the grab on the barrel of his gun, and oh, does it feel good to have this baby in his hands again, a full-toothed grin flashing across his face. It's only been a couple of days, but still, being tiny has made them perilous ones. Getting a gun back means he's got a fighting chance against most things.
Unfortunately, the spider has also taken notice of an object flying through the air, and when Amos looks up he can see it starting to make its move back towards them. Quickly he transfers his hold on the gun so it's in his grip properly, finger on the trigger, aiming right at the spider, pulling it, and...
...
Well, the spider certainly reacts, acting as though it's been stung rather than falling over dead. It's enough to get it to back off again at least, while Amos is left staring at his gun's setting in confusion. ]
Huh... Thought that would've killed it...
[ But it did not, so, his only choice is to recalibrate quickly. ]
We might be too small. Okay. New plan. I'm gonna try to shoot this web off here — [ at the base of the branch where Amos is standing — ] and see if that'll help shake you loose. Spider comes at us again, just yell and I'll sting it again. I guess.
[ For some reason, it's being unable to shoot a spider dead that has Amos more annoyed about their current size than anything else. Whatever. It's fine, he's got a new plan now, it's still gonna be fine... ]
no subject
So much for that hope. At least Amos isn't the kind of guy to leave him to his fate despite not having the needed tools to really help him.
Though the new plan has Atsumu's near ears flattening in a panic. He got himself up here fine, but he's still shaky using his air walking powers, and unless he can properly move his feet, he's going to be plummeting to the ground regardless. ]
Wait, hold on. When you say shake me loose, you're talkin' straight to the ground, ain'tcha?
[ It's clear from Atsumu's tone that he's not super overwhelmed by this plan, though he doesn't have a better one himself. ]
no subject
And it is, as one strand is free. He blinks up for a second at Atsumu's question, already moving on to the next one. ]
Nah. I'll catch you.
[ With his gravity powers and ability to turn Atsumu weightless, once he's free and it'll mean something — something Amos unhelpfully does not elaborate on, instead blasting a second strand free.
Just one more to go, as the web increasingly destabilizes... ]
no subject
He shouldn't be so afraid of falling. He's got more safety nets than most people do about this kind of thing, and he was the one who put himself up here. It's just that without proper use of his hands and feet, he's not sure just how well he can use those safety nets. ]
Kinda far away for you to be doin' th-ACK!!
[ Yeah there goes the second strand with another big jolt. ]
no subject
I'm not far away. I'm right here.
[ He's still so helpful. And because he's so helpful, he's moving on to the third strand, looking to melt it down. Cut away that last bit keeping the web connected to the branch, hoping that the force of its detachment will shake Atsumu free.
He's also got one eye on the spider, and it seems to be getting the message; frantically scurrying off of its web and onto a stable branch higher up. Is it angry? Amos doesn't know how to read spider body language, maybe it's angry...
And just like that, the web is cut through, and Amos' attention is immediately on Atsumu — ready to make him weightless if the jolt did, in fact, free him from the web; if he does need to be caught, and now, while he's still within Amos' range. ]
no subject
Whaddya mean "right here"? You ain't right he--
[ And that's about as far as he gets before the top of the web snaps, and as it jolts downward, the bottom and side strings holding it up fold too under Atsumu's weight. There's a panicked yell, and bits of web go scattering everywhere as a blast of air sends Atsumu spinning back upwards before he has a chance to fall far, his paws kicking frantically as he tries to find "purchase" in the air, and do something similar enough to walking that he can regain some balance. ]
no subject
Atsumu was nowhere near as calm as he had expected him to be, and his frantic scrambling and... wait, now he's up... wait, what's he...
Amos is now realizing he maybe should have been a bit clearer as to how he was going to catch Atsumu (as if that would have fully helped; most people probably aren't going to be okay with suddenly plummeting, even if they know they're going to be magically catched). He also doesn't have time to berate himself, because now he has no clue if Atsumu is going to keep going up, if he's going to fall right out of Amos' range or...
He makes a split-second decision, and jumps.
Who even knows what the spider is thinking at this point, probably watching all of this baffled out of its little spider mind — but it also scurries away when Amos' silhouette is suddenly doubling in size, black witch moth-like wings emerging from his back (RIP his clothes, but at least he knows the mending spell). They instinctively flap, he is instinctively flying, and that's just something he's going to have to think about later — because for now, he's aiming to at least grab one of Atsumu's flailing limbs. ]
no subject
That means that while he's not dropping like a person normally would, his movements are still erratic, and he's not getting the rhythm of regular walking down right. This always goes better for him when he starts on the ground first, rather than starting in the air and trying to figure out how to walk from there.
So he could use that help, and when Amos comes flying (flying?) at him, he's happy to let the man snatch his arm and catch him, his little paws no longer attempting to scramble through the air, which means that while Amos now has Atsumu in his grasp, he now has the full weight of Atsumu plus himself to keep aloft. ]
Wait when did...??
[ He swears those wings weren't there a second ago. ]
no subject
Just now. I don't know.
[ Yeah, it's weird to Amos, too.
But that can be examined later; for now Amos is desperately trying to hoist Atsumu up into what's sure to be a more comfortable hold for the both of them. His wings are also going hard, lifting them higher into the air — up past the spider and its web, is it still looking at them, who knows — and he grunts at the strain. ]
Look, I gotta — [ can he not shift Atsumu into his arms or something, carry him like a little princess, he rescued his gun surely that's fitting or something — ] can I swing you up a little. [ Communication! He's learning! ] And then we can get back on the ground.
no subject
So the relief when Amos manages to get them steady again is palpable, and the request to hold in in a way that's going to have him less likely to drop him is immediately met by Atsumu grabbing onto Amos with his other arm and trying to hoist himself up higher to make it easier. ]
Shit! Yeah, lemme just--
[ Just what? He's not entirely sure. He doesn't know exactly how the big guy wants to do this. Piggyback seems out of the question right now with the wing deal going on, but he'll scramble to get a "foothold" on the air so he can hop up a few "steps" to get his hand on Amos' shoulder at least. ]
no subject
So, alright. Stabilizing himself once again — and shit, this is taking a decent bit out of him; he's going to have to figure out this whole flying thing sometime without a teenager gripping him — Amos wraps his free arm around Atsumu's back. The arm belonging to the shoulder Atsumu is gripping dips lower, encouraging his knees to bend as he places it under their crooks. He lifts his arms up, allowing Atsumu to maintain that hold on him; at the same time, he's also maybe encouraging him to go a little more horizontal. Distribute his weight better.
If it's an undignified position, no it's not; they're gonna head down to the ground now, and that's what everyone wanted in the first place, right? Right — so if he's got a secure hold now, Amos can begin to slowly, if a little jerkily, descend. ]
no subject
So no, this is not the coolest that Atsumu has ever felt, but you know what? Being a splattered mess on the ground seems even less cool to him, so he'll wrap his arms frantically around the big, burly man's neck, and let him princess carry the fuck out of him if it means he doesn't break every bone in his body. He's surely living someone's dream anyway, even if in his own fantasies Atsumu has always been the carry-er and not the carry-ee. ]
Easy, dude!
[ Amos is actually doing a pretty good job taking them down, but Atsumu's grip notably tightens for a second with each particularly jerky motion. He's getting used to taking falls, but there's something uncomfortable about not being in control of the downward motion himself. ]
no subject
(Maybe one day Atsumu can gracelessly carry Amos, too.)
He grunts when Atsumu's grip around him tightens, stopping his descent to adjust, but hey! He's getting good at hovering in place, turns out! It's a good thing that the wings that just sprouted from his back seem to know exactly what to do on their own. ]
Working on it. Sorry. [ And for what it's worth, he is genuinely apologetic. Finally. ] We'll get there, just gotta... yup, there we go.
[ As he finishes adjusting so Atsumu is now in position for the exact hold he wants, Amos resumes their descent — much smoother now, if still a little cautious. But since they're firmly out of danger in his mind's eye, and that poor spider is going to have to find another meal elsewhere, he's got the time to beam down at Atsumu. ]
Think I'm doing alright for my first time flying, huh?
[ What a world that this is even possible, but sure, why not! ]
no subject
In the position he's in right now it does take a little leaning back to properly see Amos face, but crane his head back Atsumu will, all so he can deliver an incredulous look at the man. ]
Awful convenient of your wings to show up now.
[ Very convenient, and maybe Atsumu would do better to save his reasonable skepticism about the workings of Kenos for after they're both definitely on the ground. He seems to at least partly realize that, because he adds in another question. ]
They ain't gonna suddenly disappear either, are they?
no subject
... But then Atsumu suggests that they might disappear, and Amos stops his descent, hovering in place.
Long pause.
He looks down — first at Atsumu, then past him. They're maybe. Halfway there? Halfway to being back on the ground?
His wings are still holding them in place, flapping at a comfortable pace. Okay. His long pause can be over now. ]
Nah. I don't think so. [ Reassuring! ] But even if they do, I can just use gravity magic. That'll slow us down. You were kinda stepping on air back up there too, weren't you? Grabbing onto it?
[ They've got contingencies between them, don't they? It'll be fine! ]
no subject
He'll grip onto Amos just a little tighter after that less than fully reassuring comment. ]
Better have that gravity move of yours on the ready.
[ Because he is not about to put all of his faith on spontaneously sprouting wings that Amos just thinks won't disappear. ]
And something like that, but if I stop movin' then I'm as good as fallin', and it's hard to get a good foothold when you're already droppin' down.
no subject
Yeah, the gravity thing's old hat for me by now. Been at it for more than a year. You got nothing to worry about.
[ Which is true. Nothing about Amos' demeanour changes, even though this might actually be better for reassuring Atsumu — just a steadfast confidence with actual experience to back him up, rather than a gut feeling.
A beat. ]
Huh, so it's like you're finding an actual foothold in the air, huh? That's cool. See what you mean about that being tough if you're already falling; you'd have to snag something on the fly, wouldn't you. That probably ain't easy.
[ As they continue to descend... not too far now... ]
But yeah, you got nothing to worry about. Anything goes sideways, I'll catch you. Give you plenty of time to find that foothold you need.
no subject
Though the closer they get to the ground, the more he seems to relax. By the time they're at about "would just fuck up a limb on a bad landing" height, he's practically boneless as the adrenaline finally starts to exit his system and leaves him feeling drained as hell.
How every other person in Kenos managed to live this kind of life before coming here is beyond him. ]
Honestly, if I could do the whole gravity thing myself, then I'd pretty much never have to worry about fallin'. I'd just have to get real good at switchin' back and forth between the two powers.
no subject
Though it is also kinda nicer to have Atsumu going limp in his arms. At least when they land he can still hold him up, if that's a... thing he needs to do. ]
I'd teach you if I could, but I dunno if that's possible. I still barely know shit about magic, just what I've picked up here. Would be a good combo for you though, yeah.
[ Which probably just means they'll have to find some way to work together instead! Unless Atsumu does manage to manifest it on his own, which would be awesome for the both of them. Mostly Atsumu. ]
Tell you what, you ever pick it up, talk to me. I spent a couple of decades in zero g environments. Got a pretty good feel for it.
[ Just a few more flaps of his wings and... there it is. Amos' feet are officially touching the ground, and he beams at Atsumu once his footing is secure and solid. ]
You good?
[ Is he going to have to hold him up? ]
no subject
The comments about not really knowing shit about magic gets an understanding nod from Atsumu though. He's been training with a mage, so he knows a hell of a lot more than he used to, but he started off on the ground floor with this one too, so he does get it.
The nodding stops as Amos reminds him that he isn't exactly normal still. ]
Right, spaceman shit.
[ That zero g living.
As for the question, he starts to wiggle in Amos' arms, trying to get out so he too can have feet firmly on the ground again. Sure he's spent a lot of time in the air after the powers he ended up with, but that doesn't mean there's not safety and comfort here on solid earth. ]
Yeah, I got it.
[ Though he does stop wiggling for a moment, as if he's remembering what manners actually are. ]
Thanks for the save, man.