THE SOOT OF IGNORANCE: RISING ACTION

[beleos]

BETWEEN UNCONTROLLED ESCALATION & UNENDING PASSIVITY

The moonlit city of Highstorm has always been a tranquil location.

Its people, passionate about the steady leadership of Zenith's leader — Lady Yima — begin their movements slowly and deliberately. Following the lead of their most trusted Shard-Bearers and the word of their Lady, activity in Highstorm begins to increase in the vicinity of Yima's Manor. The Court, the town square outside of it, becomes a hotbed of bustle and voices. Personnel and attendants rush around with documentation, stirring others to action. A select few figures gather the full force of their long-standing houses, calling on family bonds and their own castellans to assist the efforts that build over the course of a few days.

For the tranquility of Highstorm is only ever punctuated by its decisiveness, its faith that their path is the correct one — and now, they will prove it.

In a trickle-down effort, from the most loyal Zenites to the newest, the news unfolds for them: Amos Burton has been tasked by Lady Yima herself to turn the tides back in Zenith's favor. He is to end the life of the 34th Tribune, Cyrus Marcius Germanus Kokkinos, alongside the fortune who have found their way into Zenith's graces. In the earliest hours of the invasion, the figure of Yima herself steps out onto the balcony of her quarters — the highest point of the Manor — with her robes soft around her body and hands extended to her people. Her silence is punctuated by glowing feelings of pride that flow through the hearts and minds of every last sworn Zenite, bolstering their resolve and encouraging them with the cool, ever-flowing might of the people who look to Zenith's Shard-Bearers for their victory.

She sees them off with unspoken sentiments of love, confidence in them — the whispered promises that she knows they are ready to see the war through. And perhaps none of them will know that it is the last time they see her.

For in the sun-dappled sprawl of Springstar, their target awaits them.

The bustle of the city has always been without reservation; the bright and airy attitudes of militant citizenry look on with confidence and celebratory warmth as their Shard-Bearers have brought them to a marginal advancement over their enemies. While Tribune Cyrus's popularity has waned, there are alternative avenues they have begun to explore — the figure of Agapitos Voreen has become deeply popular, with savvy statements, an easy confidence and a willingness to deny Zenith any room to breathe, he is a shoe-in for future Tribune, whenever the next elections are held.

Which is why, in between one moment and the next, the city is rocked by the efforts of their opposition. Zenite-aligned Shard-Bearers and the small house armies of Yima's most loyal core families fill the streets with chaotic distractions, ranging from duels with the Helios Legionnaire to direct attacks on civilians. ( Where does your character draw the line, if they care to? Will it matter in the long run, do they believe? ) Appearing from several Cornerstones hidden within the city's confines from missions long past, tracking the movements of Legionnaires and Shard-Bearers alike from the placement of listening gems and tracking spells, even rising from the bowels of Kowloon to trap the city in a pincer movement — Highstorm goes on the offensive.

Springstar puts up a valiant resistance in return; however, within twenty-four hours, Zenite Shard-Bearers will have hunted down, cornered and slain the Tribune. In that moment, Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearers will feel a splitting pain: the suddenness of having an integral element of their power ripped from them, the sensation akin to being crushed, gasping under the weight of Zenith's swell. The last trickle of emotion from Cyrus for them is a gentle warmth, fondness and forgiveness and the purity of his confidence in them. He believes in them, he always has, and he prays and hopes for their victory even though he will not be around to see it become reality, now.

His death is announced the following day by his assistant Cetina, the deer-morph girl choking back angry tears as she — with a furious and tearful General Ayo Zaman and the somber, mournful figure of Hieropoios Natalia at her side — lambasts Highstorm for the act of aggression, attempts to rouse the city and Meridian's hope, and pledges that she will not let her best friend's murderers escape her vengeance.

Hours after Cetina's message, in the far corner of Highstorm — following the people's celebrations and rejoicing in their strike, the delight in the might of their Shard-Bearers and the renewed passions of their people in pursuit of their victory — a brilliant, golden beam of sunlight pierces the eternal night of the city.

In an instant, the balcony upon which Yima had stood and the rooms beyond it — in fact, the entirety of the Manor, is engulfed in fire and light. The Manor falls, crumbling in upon itself as debris cascades into the living quarters of Shard-bearers and partially topples into the Court beyond. While the Tree of Life, the Reflecting Pools and many businesses around the Court escape extensive damage, the Manor itself is in shambles. And in the wake, many Zenite Shard-Bearers will feel the suddenness of having an integral element of their power ripped from them, the sensation akin to being crushed, gasping under the weight of Meridian's swell. In the wake of the strike, there is a deep silence within them.

Any attempts to contact Yima are met with the same silence a Shard-Bearer feels when reaching out to another who has left the world entirely. And with that, both sides are left to pick up the pieces and weigh the consequences of their actions.

ADDITIONAL MATTERS

During ( and in the wake of both assaults ), there is plenty for any Unharmonized Shard-Bearers and more moderate Meris/Zenites to partake in. Damage has been wrought to both cities at differing times, and there is a degree of life lost no matter the best efforts of those who value innocents over the price enacted by acts of war.

In Springstar, the citizenry has been ravaged by attacks stemming from the depths of Kowloon: as monsters in the form of both individuals with unusual appetites (cannibals and vampires, for example) and heavily-drugged, superpowered addicts have been finding their way into the city, slaughtering civilians indiscreetly, picking fights with the Legionary, and engaging in general criminal mischief and violence. Following Zenith's assault and subsequent assassination, the city will be on high alert and be deeply hostile toward Zenith-aligned Shard-Bearers, as well as mistrustful towards any Unharmonized ( for good reason: they might still Harmonize with Zenith! ). After the day of the attack, the attacks drop off significantly, but do not vanish entirely, for now that some have gotten a taste, it will take time for Yura to reign them in once more.

The people of the city turn to their Shard-Bearers in the wake of their Tribune's murder; even though his popularity had waned, it isn't as though his death doesn't affect them! Deeply concerned and frightened for their future, they demand information about what will be done to protect the city from another assault like this? Some civilians will turn to the church, or perhaps community leaders, but it seems very few turn to the legionary, after they were so focused on the attacks that they missed the forest for the trees. Their trust in their military leaders is waning, and they’re looking for answer. Some community leaders have tried to soften the hurt and anger of Springstar’s people, but they look toward those whom were not a part of the current establishment to answers.

In Highstorm, Yima's Manor lays in shambles, but the rest of the city is unharmed. Shard-Bearers who were living in the Manor will find that their living quarters suffered from the collapse and subsequent fires, but any precious items/belongings they had in their rooms can be recovered after sifting through the rubble. One of Yima’s most trusted, Florence, seems to be taking the reigns of control, and while there are still pockets of the manor that remain on the outskirts of the building itself, she encourages any Zenites who had not moved out to move on quickly, since what is left should be used by any newcomers who need shelter, and not those whom have had the opportunity to make bonds, and have allies that they can rely on.

The main issue now plaguing Zenites is the sudden, overwhelming crowd that begins to gather in the Court, demanding information from them about Yima's safety — they are frantic, and rightfully concerned about further assaults of that incendiary degree from Meridian. The city will be on high alert and be deeply hostile toward Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearers, as well as mistrustful towards any Unharmonized ( for good reason: they might still Harmonize with Meridian! ). The Manor itself is almost entirely destroyed, with only a shell of the outskirts left, and though those who are left are already trying to sift through the rubble, they are often overcome by their sorrow, and it is not uncommon in the wake of Meridian’s destruction to find some of Yima’s most loyal in distress, for the loss of their leader.

A LIGHTHOUSE AGAINST THE ENCROACHING STORM

A few months ago, all current Shard-Bearers experienced a mass dreaming event, full of teeming darkness and a pervasive sense of terror. Following the death of Cyrus and the "presumed loss" of Yima, all Shard-Bearers will receive yet another dream.

This one is a simple, direct thing: rife with a haunting sense of being watched, observed as if from the reeds and brush by a hunter. Whatever your power level, however skilled you are and confident you are in your place, your decisions, your heart will quake before the severe impression of something prowling at your heels. Just out of sight, but never out of mind. Every Shard-Bearer's shard will wrench free of their body upon waking, falling from their physical form as if to flee this sensation of something waiting, patient, for the right moment to pounce.

Echoing in the back of their mind, a wordless, shapeless promise lingers: Forward, or back. Back, or forward. Dart and weave, flit and flutter, scamper and scurry. We are here, now. In the back of every mind, what was in the process of coming before is — it is here, now. Looming right above, waiting for the outcome, watching for which way the last lives at the end of existence will flee.

Upon awakening from the mass dream-become-nightmare, Shard-bearers will slowly become aware of the exacerbation of previous events that have been persisting since October. These events are no longer subtle, and will impact everyone regardless of faction allegiance, with purposefully targeted strikes:

— Darkness has spread within Springstar. Wherever there is shadow cast by person, object or building, it has deepened, darkened, and grown in size. Walking through any shadowed area or touching a darkened shadow will fill a Shard-bearer who enters that area with feelings of dread, of something lingering just out of sight, of danger prickling along their spine, and entice them to run and flee. If they are not quick enough, an unseen entity savages them — aiming directly for wherever their Shard is hidden and held. They are being hunted.

— Light has spread within Highstorm. Starlight and moonlight seem to sear what they touch, leaving patches of bleached-white scars upon person, object or building. Being touched by the light or coming into contact with a white-scarred entity will fill a Shard-bearer with feelings of malaise, like they should simply lay down and accept what comes next. Suffocating hands waiting to pin them down. Even in the safety of the shadows, the scourging glow of any light reaches for them and rakes across their bodies, seeking the place where their Shard is hidden or held. Ravaging them with hot-and-cold burns. They are being sacrificed.

— Shard-bearers readily become lost in familiar places, as if their homes and bastions of safety and security have become strange ( estranged? ) from their minds. The route to that favorite haunt ( perhaps even their own place of business ) eludes them, and searching for it alone becomes an impossibility. It takes another Shard-bearer, at times, to aid them in breaking free of the mild befuddlement. You're just tired. It's just the strain getting to you.

— Citizens of both Springstar and Highstorm continue to speak about neighbors who have 'suddenly moved away', or the disappearance of a favored shop or cafe. Some mention favorite, useful landmarks vanishing, causing them to forget where they are coming from, or where they are going. When directly asked about this circumstance, they shrug and declare that it happens all the time these days. In fact, there's nothing to really be done about it. And if pressed, the citizenry's eyes go glassy and expressions become confused as they ask who, what, where, and why their Shard-Bearer has begun asking them such strange questions. None seem bothered by this strange occurrence, as if all is well and normal.

— Shard-bearers will begin to see familiar faces in crowds, standing on street corners, peering through their private windows, waving them down at their familiar haunts. People from their own worlds, loved and hated alike rush for them — adoring and hostile alike. Family members and friends who seem to attempt to meet their eyes before the crowd swallows them up; loved ones who should be captured in Shards try to flag them down, calling their names and asking them where have you been? what's going on?; enemies and abusers seem to advance upon them, pushing their way forth hungrily. And then they are gone, but not before leaving behind the impression, the strange sensation that, they are real. Really there. If only for a moment.

OOC & (IMMEDIATE) WORLD CHANGES

The full document for this event can be found here!

So, what does the world look like now that this has all gone down?

The world of Kenos ripples from the effects of our players!

Springstar is (mostly) physically unharmed, though the population has been reduced thanks to the number of murders and criminal mischief that has taken place during the attack. Damage seems constrained to things like broken doors and windows, looted property, and murdered civilians, though the severity is up to how many defend Springstar from the concentrated might of Ryad’s regulars, and a practical army of addicts rising from the depths below the city.

The leadership of Springstar is also shaken, though there are procedures in place for this – if one is particularly studious, they will recall that this is not the first Tribune that has been assassinated, though it is the first in a long while – and the Church and the Legionary have stepped in to maintain the peace while elections begin to be arranged.

Cyrus’s body is interred publically at the Church in Heliopolis for a week after his passing, before his body is immolated during a service, his soul returned to the Tree of Life. Those who attend will feel the light of Meridian fill them, and their Discord may be reduced by one level thanks to the warm hope that fills them, even as they despair at the loss of their leadership. Meridian calls to its most loyal, and asks them to do what they do best, show hope and unending resolve, when things look to be their most hopeless.

Highstorm is another story. The destruction wrought is more property, but the number of people who were within the manor is difficult to count until a week or two after the destruction has been evaluated, and cleanup has begun. The loss of life is not devastating compared to what was leveled upon Springstar, but perhaps the most distressing is that Yima is not present. Florence reassures those in Highstorm with her calming, but firm presence.

With few of Yima’s softer adorations to be found, Florence instead pushes the faithful to muster their will and begin the recovery efforts. After all, they have long proven to have faith in Yima’s guidance, and they should believe in it now when it is difficult. It is not the first time their fortitude has been tested, after all.

Her words fill those in Zenith with a sense of calm resolve, and they may feel their distress and discord from this destruction alleviating slightly. Highstorm’s government works smoothly without Yima, and those who are interested in history will be able to see Florence’s name throughout the annals, as one that would guide Yima’s faithful when the matron was in convalescence, or respite. What Zenith does best, after all, is build something new when faced with destruction. Consider this a primer for your new world, to help bring the faithful back from the brink of their despair.

The unharmonized have a choice, as they so often do. This time, however, the stakes appear even higher than before. The cities are not as welcoming as they once were, and those that have not chosen are beseeched by the civilians of both Highstorm and Springstar. ‘Do you not understand what they’ve taken from us, and what they will in days to come? You cannot let this continue, standing on the sidelines. Imagine the ways in which you could help us,’ they beg, and it feels as though your neutrality will become increasingly inconvenient, as time goes on.

What can we expect next?

As the month of Pelu ( aka March ) dawns, you will begin to feel it. Something tugs at you.

Those who have lived through more than one will feel that anticipatory anxiety rise, as the next oracle is coming. Are you ready to fight to claim it, even when it feels so dark, and even when everything feels different, and harder? Do you look to the stars, and dream of your home? Or do you gaze outward, into nothing, and dream of what you will make from the ashes?

Anticipate the oracle in the coming month of Pelu, and to learn more about those that will step into the voids left by Cyrus and Yima.

And as always!

Questions can be directed here!

Individuals less-inclined to busy themselves with either effort, or looking for a way to gain a foothold/explore the world can report here for exploration attempts. We recommend examining the Kenos Wiki's Locations for ideas, if you don't know where to start. Or! Ask someone in the Discord Server for a recommendation, we have long-time players eager to help.

Lastly, remember that Cyrus and Yima will be a little occupied this time around, but anyone who might ICly have reason to contact them regarding the brewing troubles can do so here!

CODING

Comments

matt jamison | surprise!! zenith | stargazer | most prompts ota

[semicharmed]

i. survey says (alenroux, backdated to a week before event)
[ Matt worked hard designing this survey, scraping his brain for the methodologies they'd gone over in his urban planning program. He figured coming straight out and asing "Zenith or Meridian" would yield poor results, so he's come up with questions that are a little more roundabout:

I enjoy change in my life, the bigger the better. I often think about regrets I have or things/people I've lost. You tear a hole in an embarrassing spot of your favorite outfit. What do you do? (- I do my best to repair the outfit - I buy a new outfit) I think of where I am as my true home.

A few days into his surveying efforts, he's already worried he fucked up. Despite his best efforts, Highstorm residents score high on all the Zenith indicators, Springstar on the Meridian ones. Matt was hoping Alenroux would be a tie-breaker, but the people who live here seem to have moved recently from other islands. They, too, adhere neatly to a Zenith-Meridian dichotomy based on where they came from.

He and his survey partner are resting from their labors at one of the village's charming wine-tastings. Matt doesn't look particularly relaxed. He's flipping through his latest notebook, reading and rereading answers to see what he may have missed.

He has already had to be saved from at least one monster, but this is definitely the unhappiest he's appeared on the trip so far. ]

ii. springstar attack
iia. harmony in z (ota)
[ Matt is not expecting Yima's announcement, to say the least.

Maybe if he'd spent less time with his nose stuck in a book and more time actually paying attention, he would have noticed. Maybe if he'd been less shy around Amos, his old-new friend, he would have been able to figure out what was coming. These recriminations and others crowd his head as he races through the snow, staggering for the nearest cornerstone. It's even more quiet than usual around here, which can only mean he's too late–

Matt's spit out in the Akadimaïkós District. He blinks against the bright, hearing screams. The very first thing his frazzled mind can focus on is a group of people running for the cute little museum-slash-cafe he'd made a note to visit later, their faces twisted beyond recognition with fury, or hunger. Cafe patrons are the ones screaming. And in that moment, what utterly surprises him is that he feels … calm.

It feels like lights down. A cool touch to his cheek. Matt remembers there's a delicate species of hollyhock that can only bloom in places ravaged by forest fires. Sometimes its seeds wait for a hundred years before they get a chance to grow. Just like he always does when something of the spirit reaches out to touch him, Matt reaches back.

I think you could use a little help right now. And so could I. So ... you can have my heart. If I can borrow your power.

Please, help me.

He doesn't feel anything flashy. Just a glow. A quiet sense of working in the dark, under the earth. And then he's back in the blood and bright sunlight, people still running and screaming.

Matt raises his hand, mind narrowing to a single point of focus: Grant us thy great protection, keep his deadly weapon far away. His breath hitches in his throat. And a wall of translucent, golden light springs up before the attackers. They smack into it like it's a screen door, while terrified cafe patrons make a break for it.

That's the good news! The bad news is those cannibals are now turning their attention to Matt. ]

iib. fortress mentality (ota)
[ To Matt's mind, unfamiliar with the city as he is, the Community Center in the Akadimaïkós District seems like a good place to fortify, but with enough exits that people won't get trapped inside. You'll find Matt pacing back and forth in the doorframe of the main entrance, doing what appears to be some kind of urgent finger-weaving with strands of golden light. As he paces, the light fills the entranceway like threads filling up a tapestry.

He's going as fast as he can, but he doesn't look like he'll have time to complete whatever he's doing before the monsters bearing down the street reach him. ]

iic. communion (ota meris matt has met)
[ After awhile, Matt loses track of time. It's easy to do in Springstar and Highstorm under normal circumstances, and he's been running on adrenaline and slinging spells for what feels like hours. Finally, when the waves of attackers subside to a trickle, then to horrid quiet, Matt slumps down against the nearest wall.

He can't believe it's taken him this long to think of other Shard-Bearers. What he lacks in timeliness, his mental message delivers in fretful insistence: ]

Hey, it's Matt.

Are you okay? Are you safe?

iii. honey, you got a big storm comin' (amos)
[ Matt finds himself back in Highstorm, thinking, I can't be here right now.

It's all he can think as he makes his way back to Amos', and it loops in his head as he scrounges up the possessions he's managed to accrue in his few weeks here. There's a surprising amount of it, though it's mainly books. Notebooks, some of them filled with his lackluster survey results; the Atharvaveda Sebastian gave him.

I can't be here. I can't be here.

How does Matt not have anything to carry all this stuff in? Maybe he can fold everything up into this robe and carry it like one of those handkerchiefs on a stick.

Matt doesn't notice, but the temperature in the room has started to dip. The flame in the nearest lamp flutters and jumps. ]

iv. unleash the power of the sun (highstorm - for howl but ota zenites)
[ Matt felt sick to his stomach when he realized what was coming for Springstar. A sense of lurching failure. In contrast, the sickness he feels over the assault on Highstorm is startlingly literal. He feels like he's having a panic attack–the sudden dread, the crushing weight to his heart. Yima flashes before his mind's eye. Her gentle hands clasping his; her soft, sweet voice saying terrible things.

On go the layers and boots. Out he goes, dashing through the snow for the second time in as many days. Convinced, for the second time in as many days, that he's already too late. The Manor's devastation is apparent from a ways off, the kind of physical wreckage Matt's only seen on the news before now. He picks up his pace, thinking with an icy horror: the Tree.

So. Catch him by the Great Tree, scouring it and the surrounding luminous plants to see what's been damaged and what's still intact. He's not there for long before he moves on to the Manor's wreckage itself, looking for anyone who needs help. ]

v. wildcard
[ Hello lovelies!!! Please feel free to lightly massage the circumstances in these prompts if any of them don't work for you! Or let me know what you're thinking and I'll rustle you up your own starter.

Wanna plan something else but we haven't talked yet? I KNOW THE FEELING. Matt's plotting comment is here, and you can also pm me or hit up artistformerlyknownas. ]

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri has settled in with Matt at the wine-tasting, but he's avoiding any alcohol at the moment. He prefers to have a clear head if they continue their survey and he's meant to be protecting Matt. He has noticed that Matt doesn't seem quite as enamored of the answers he's getting, but he supposes he might also be reading into it. ]

You're sure you weren't too badly shaken by that encounter?

[ That seems a safer bet. ]

We can wait here for a while longer, if you wish.

Alice L. Malvin | Unharmonized Harbinger | OTA

[a_noble_flame]

BEGINNINGS;
[Alice Malvin well knew the opening notes of a conflict before they ever rung out. She didn't need to be Harmonized to either side to feel the tension streaked throughout the land. It wasn't the lawless desolation of District Zero at home but she could feel much the same desperate tightness, the winding of gears that she had no clue about.

At least at home she was entrenched in the leftovers the war had brought with it. She had never saw it's opening overture though. To think there was a time where she almost felt guilty for never stepping foot on a "proper" battlefield!

This morning starts crisp and early as Alice is jolted awake by the sharp, insistent throb of a shock down the back of her neck. It near takes her breath away and raises goosebumps down the skin of her arms, leaving her to get dressed and leave with tension shaking in through her body. At least she has a borrowed blade at her hip rather than the nothing she arrived with.

Outside chaos has already begun to descend on Springstar. Alice is still Unharmonized at the moment and so the evential ripple of Cyrus' death passes her by even if the snapping of that cord of tension hadn't passed by her altogether. Yet years of experience tell her that whatever is going on isn't a good thing and for a very brief moment she's back home, the distant rumble of that Anti-Ares' tank like the growl of a beast.]

[A] [Naturally the first thing she does is go looking for civilians. If the city is being overrun then the best thing to do is gather civilians in a safe place and focus on cleaning up after if possible. She's not sure where to take any civilians ... maybe to the Seat of the Tribune? Or somewhere in Heliopolis at least? At home most everyone had been gathered into the Tower of Babel for better or worse anf the Seat of the Tribune seemed the next closest thing.

Regardless it isn't civilians she finds first though but a mix of monsters that have crept up from the depths and Zenite Shard-Bearers fit for a fight. Windows are being broke, the peace of a city being quickly leveled and Alice draws in a breath before she lays her right hand against the hilt of her borrowed sword.

She might be small in stature but she has a voice that cuts through the chaos of the area at least, loud and clear and with the command befitting a Malvin.]

I won't stand for this destruction! Cease what you are doing and retreat now or come and face me if you dare!

[B] [Thankfully she does manage to find some civilian survivors. Not many, certainly not enough of them by her estimation but every life gathered up is important. By now her coat bears the tell-tale smatterings of the monsters she's cut through as she's weaved the streets, lost at times because of both being new and some strange force that seems to bend her steps.

She leads this little ragtag group of people to the nearest gathering of civilians she does find, taking a moment to catch her breath. She directs her attention to whoever has gathered up this group or maybe is just with them for whatever reason.]

Forgive me, I'm one of the newer Shard-Bearers. I wasn't sure where to escort any civilians I found. I considered Heliopolis but ... I seem to be getting turned around here so...

CLEANING UP;

[The dust has not completely settled once Cyrus' death is announced of course. In the wake of all the attacks Springstar has more than simply lost it's peace and security. The murdered civilians are plenty but those still leaving must deal with property damage and other such things that impede their daily lives.

And obviously Alice wants to help them. Whatever distrustful looks she gets as an Unharmonized Shard-Bearer barely seem to faze the woman. More than once she gets a door shut in her face in the days following, the citizenry too wary of her or just plain distrusting the military. If anyone looks military it's Alice in her uniform. Maybe not quite the same as this world's military but close enough.

Eventually she begins not wearing her uniform overcoat. In khakis and a button up short sleeve shirt she looks far more civilian. She still wears her borrowed sword on her hip and she might either need to take on some of the threats wandering the streets or she might actually get someone willing to let her help repair their property.]

MOURNING;

[At some point during the week of Cyrus' interment at the Church one can find Alice in attendance. She doesn't have anything appropriately dressy for something like a funeral but she still comes in her uniform pants and the short sleeved khaki button up she wears beneath. Dressing down as a civilian has helped some with the citizens who may side eye her distrustfully.

She barely knew Cyrus beyond that one last speech when she first arrived but the sadness in his eyes reminded her far too much of others she had seen. Did he know what was on the horizon for him? So many she had known who had seen their fates coming and not been able to abandon them for one reason or another. During her time in the Church she looks deeply thoughtful, her eyes distance even if directed forward. She's not sure exactly what one does at the funerals in this world but surely a few words quietly to herself can't hurt, yes?

So she apologized. Once again she had come far too late to help. In the mission of war relief Alice would forever be late for those who truly needed it.

Once she's done with that she leaves, stopping once she's a good bit away from the Church to take in a breath and let it ease out of her slowly. Something she's been running through her mind for days now is clearing up slowly but surely. She has been unwilling to let herself take the choice of alignment lightly but now she thinks this trial has shown her what she values most.]

I wonder --

[Her words spoken aloud are cut off when from a great distance outside the Church she sees a lingering shadow, one that is so aching familiar she can't help but freeze up in place for just a second.

Then it's gone before she can move. What...?]

WILDCARD;

[Feel free to beat up these prompts into working for you if they're close enough. If not feel free to slap down your own here! You can hit up my plotting comment, PM me or poke me on plurk @ goodluckstarfighter.]

Cleaning Up

[hauntedking]

[ In the aftermath of the attack, Dimitri still feels a bit like he's in shock. Things have escalated far beyond what he thought possible. He had known, logically, that war must eventually lead to more outbreaks. To something besides skirmishes. But a wholesale invasion and killing of the Tribune was not expected. He is rattled and angry and perhaps even more determined than ever to continue. Whatever disagreements or thoughts he may have had about Cyrus, he did not deserve to be murdered. The people of Springstar did not deserve to be cut down in their homes or to have their lives up-ended like this.

Why has Zenith done this?

He can't be sure.

In the days after he has thrown himself into trying to help rebuild. His association with the military means there are some wary glances, but at the same time... he is a hero of Springstar, isn't he? He helped win the victory at the last Oracle. So at least people are willing to give him a chance and he's more than willing to do what he can to ease their burdens. Or to help with the lingering monsters and threats that continue to pop up here and there.

A scream has drawn his attention and he has arrived on the scene as Alice does - a young man and woman and their child are being menaced by a small handful of the miscreants out of Kowloon, laughing and preparing to make sport of their prey - at least until they realize they have two others present. ]

Lay down you arms. [ Dimitri growls. ]

And you will live.

[ He's not sure they'll accept that. He glances at Alice with a nod. ]

Not how I'd hoped to see your skill with a sword, but-

set ( meridian, savant )

[redsoil]

— IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT.

[ What he knows of the oncoming battle is little, a testament to the effective planning and rapid mobilization of the Zenites.

Set has sunk himself into work in the Beyond for weeks, months on end, and so his awareness of the general atmosphere surrounding him is shallow, at best. He half-expects it, though. Either a Zenite attack, or an internal move within Springstar's governance; no matter how hard he and Akua worked in his defense, Cyrus's rule had been doomed since the first Shard-Bearer arrived, taken a look at his smiling face and slandered him as false, sly, a liar. The Meridian ranks had never rallied behind him, not in the way Zenith looked to Yima — and that was, as he understood it, the price of those who truly embodied change.

When the rumbles of the assault first reach him, he leaves his temple deep in the Beyond and lurches into Springstar with wrath in his eyes and determination in the savage, bared snarl upon his teeth. His leniency for Zenith has dwindled, as the rise of the worst of them has led him to disavow their desire. It cannot be allowed to stand: the lackluster, shallow existence of the Zenite Shard-Bearers and the matron they pledge to. They must be made to change.

I. COUNTER ( ASSIST ). But first, he makes to defend his home.

The first thing he does is to head for the Church of Helios. Word of their Archon's arrival begins to stir the people who have fled for sanctuary, the people that he begins to shepherd and herd towards the doors of the grand structure, calling out to them: It will not fall, Heliopolis stands eternal! in encouragement. Upon spotting any of his allies, he strikes them with a mental burst of Communion to gain their attention — the kestrel-call of a hunting bird that has spotted prey from above, the bay of a hound that seeks to alert its company of its findings. ]

Watch your back! Bring them toward the Church or send them inside, they will be safer there than in the streets!

[ He urges, as he lashes out at monsters and beasts alike. Blood splashes up his limbs, over his bare chest and face as he crushes his opposition with perfunctory precision; he grapples and bites, slices and shoots with weapons formed from sands, elegant and deadly as he attempts to reach any Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearer and seize their wrist in his hand. Assisting them, devoted to their support, no matter if they are ideologically opposed or unhappy with one another. ]

They are after something, they have to be. This is like the Oracle, but to a different degree.

[ II. CONTROL ( PVP ). He works hard to save his own, and harder still to route Zenites.

Set halts in the roads, in alleys and stooped upon rooftops upon spotting any known-Zenites, his bared teeth morphing into a mocking smile as he takes them in: ] I recommend rethinking every moment that led you here.

[ There is no doubt that he doesn't care if the Zenite in question is hindering, or helping. Set drags his dark mask down across his face, flicks a wrist and extends an equally dark sceptre into his hand and without a care as to protest, he lunges forth with murderous intent. There's no doubt he intends to brutalize and dissipate any opponent in his way, from here on out. ]

In fact, I demand that you submit now. Those you have injured and abused will judge you for your sins.

— TO THE BREAK OF DAWN.

[ Cyrus dies, despite it all.

The pang of mourning he feels is pushed aside, as Set returns to the Beyond. Alongside a select few who he takes within him — those he needs to fuel the weapon. He can hem and haw over it all he wants, but in the end, there is no time for a test run: it must be used. Some part of him relishes that it is as he wanted it to be, a precision strike in response to piss-poor Zenite decisions. Let them understand that they caused this, he thinks, let them rue that their own choices are did this to them. And then there is light, burning Meridian and divine energy that bursts from the depths of the Beyond and tears through Yima's Manor. Tears through her, he intends.

And in the wake of it, he immediately takes up the next position that he must: that of the villain, the madman. In Communion, as he enters Highstorm loudly and boldly.

I. COMMUNION ( OTA ). [ The sensation of Set rises within all whom receive the alarming contact. He allows himself to be seen, a man of red, streaked with blood — standing atop the burning wreckage of Yima's Manor. He envisions himself reaching down into the rubble, and lifting up the battered, starlit robe that adorned Yima's form. Holding it high above his head like a flag he intends to mount as a trophy, a sneer building on his face. ]

You should have stuck to losing Oracles, Zenith. Now, you solidify your place as true failures.

Dominated in ideology. Incapable of protecting your precious ones. Bereft of a leader who is not readily replaced.

— you may thank me for showing you the error of your ways.

[ And though it is only metaphorical, only within Communion, he touches Yima's robe to his mouth — and as he does, it begins to fade into motes of starry sands. Eroding before the minds of all, as he opens his arms and commands the blame focus on him. ( Fellow Savants will know it is true: this brash act, is both him at his most true, and him as an act. Part of him feels miserably, and part of him is prepared to shoulder this burden. ) ]

When I find her body, I will be sure to let you keep it. I only want her head after all, ahaha!

II. CIRCUMVENT. [ Set takes flight across Highstorm, openly.

There is reason to his show of victorious sauntering; the cavorting madness that overtakes him is a calculated effort to protect the rest of Meridian. To focus ire upon him, to make him into the true evil within Meridian. ( He mourns, somber and pained within his heart, as he dodges wrathful citizens and alights upon rooftops with the intent to be spotted, to flee. It will take some effort to capture him, but by the way he flags and falters, he might not have intentions to escape too quickly. )

He is aiming to reach the Cornerstone in the city, because in the end, he doesn't want to be destroyed. Dissipation would certainly, at this point, lead to it. For that reason, he relies heavily on his spellwork and trickery. A combination of Major Image, Mold Earth, and Harmonization ability of Corruption, are his main tools of the trade, alongside that horrible mouth of his. ( Any Zenite who wants a nice reason/push towards deeper Harmonization can look no further, he'll definitely serve as a natural #reason to hate on Meridian. More than that, any Meri looking to escape suspicion and/or get some brownie points with Zenites can build off his obvious show of villainy! ) ]

— OOC.

[ Set's plotting comment is here, and I'll have some closed starters for specific plans below! ]

ATSUMU | HAMSTER BALL TIME

[redsoil]

[ — it doesn't matter that Atsumu is one of the younger Zenites, really.

He is there, in Springstar, and he needs to be stopped. Once, Set had offered him a golden bauble; a gift for a young man he had looked to, both compassionate and lost in his own way, an Unharmonized soul who wanted a small statuette so badly, because he had just lost everything. And now, he pursues that same youth without mercy. Talking about the Olympics was a matter of the past, because the moment he had seen the youth in the city, he was functionally the enemy.

Friendly or not, young or not, he is an obstacle to be removed, and Set has never pulled his punches. ]

— so, they made something monstrous of you, [ he laughs, mean and snarling as he descends from a rooftop. A blade in his hand that scythes in a downward sweep towards the teen. There's no mercy in it, Set fully intends to carve Atsumu from stem to stern if he can land a blow. He's a Zenite, a rival and enemy. There's no room or reason to look at things like "age" or "ability" in war, that's just practical. Anyone who chooses an active role ought to know the consequences that will be visited upon them. The judgement, the pain, the risk. ]

Some friends you chose to follow! Do you enjoy hurting innocents now, Atsumu? Does it make you proud, to offer your support and efforts to this?

Dimitri Blaiddyd | Meridian (Advocate)

[hauntedking]

I. The Tragedy of Springstar

[ It isn't night when it happens; it's never night in Springstar, after all. But it comes on gradually, like a wave. There's a slow start at first. Sounds of fighting, hurried Legionaries, people spreading alarming rumors - and then it crests. In the early moments, Dimitri is delayed and distracted, drawn away by a face he sees in the crowd. But then he has to choose between pursuit and helping others. Between the people and the center of the city. This time, he chooses people. He throws himself into the fight and he is a fierce opponent. He carries with him his lance - an artifact weapon of power - and he is now clad in his armor, gleaming bright, reflecting the golden light of the city and the orange of flames as he throws himself into harms way again and again. Where he goes, he can put heart into Legionaries and into civilians. He can rally men and women to his side.

Zenites earn his ire and a decisive glare, something that isn't quite betrayal but is full of righteous wrath and anger. ]

This is not your place! Why do you insist on bringing destruction to these people? Is this the new world you seek to bring?

[ He is a terrible opponent to face - but not invincible of course and he does not seem quite willing to fight entirely to the death...

Otherwise, by other Meridian or even Unharmonized he can be found assisting civilians - providing healing magic where he can or warding off the monsters and attackers who swarm the city or potentially even rallying groups of Legionaries. In any case, he does his utmost to take charge. In the heart of a crisis he will point to someone - anyone - who seems to need guidance or just seems to need something to do. ]

You - I need your help - we have wounded!

[ He loathes this. Loathes what's happened. But he will fight and make his way through this first and vent his wrath later. But there is a burning sense of betrayal, of having wanted to try and build a bridge - and instead the Zenites have decided to turn this into a real war. How utterly pointless, he thinks. ]

Counter-Strike

[ In the aftermath, there is burning anger, and he drives himself into the Beyond, to the firing site of the Weapon. He only learned - really learned - of it recently, but now he sees the need. The purpose. And he will defend the place where it sits to ensure that the Zenith pays the price for their treachery. He can be found on the steps of the temple, his lance in hand, tired and battered, but still standing, waiting for the enemy to come as they surely must when the Weapon is fired. They cannot leave this place standing. His gaze is almost cold, but it burns a little with an inner fire. ]

Come.

[ He takes a step down the stairs, arms outspread, cloak swirling. ]

This is the war you have desired, isn't it? Why else would you bring destruction and death into the heart of a city?

[ Fight him - or help him keep the Zenites out. Either way, he'll be there. ]

The Aftermath

[ He's exhausted the day afterward and emotionally drained, only able to muster a sort of dull shock when he learns that Cyrus has been assassinated. It resonates with him. He did not entirely trust Cyrus or entirely believe in everything that was said, but he did not want wish his death. Nor did he wish war to come to this city. There is too much happening, still. Still too many people needing help.

So he throws himself into doing that - helping. He tries to focus on repair work, on making sure people have homes to return to. But he often finds himself drawn into fighting the remnants of the invasion and those stragglers who still sneak in to make trouble. He can be found trying to calm citizens or just helping them - especially children who might be lost or afraid. He does not seem to seek out rest and perhaps that's a problem. Exhaustion might claim him before anything else does! Despite that, he offers other Meridian a smile, however tired it is, and tries to carry on as he lingers near a public fountain. ]

We can't stop just yet, can we?

[ He breathes out and dashes his face with cold well-water. ]

There's... too much left undone, isn't there? And we - we're the ones who have to help hold this place together.

[ He sounds almost wistful.

To the Unharmonized, he might pause to speak to them and find out where they're going or what they're doing - or if they need help. He recognizes the mistrust, but finds it a little misguided. Even if his heart aches. ]

Wildcard

[ Feel free to modify the prompts a little or give me something else you want to work with! Hit me up at dragoon1940 or on Discord @ chrono6269 for plotting purposes. ]

Gen | Before the Storm

[hauntedking]

[ Before it all comes to a head, before it becomes something terrible and great, there is just another day in Springstar. Dimitri is not girded for war or even thinking of a fight. Instead he is dressed simply and out to run errands or visit a friend - whatever has brought him toward the center of the city, he is threading his way through the crowd, his thoughts elsewhere, when something catches his eye. A figure - hooded, perhaps, or just somehow unobtrusive - catches his eye. He turns, not quite sure why he wants to give them another look.

Maybe it's just a feeling.

But he follows.

He's not the stealthiest person in the room, but the crowd at least lets him blend in - until the crowd thins out and they start to wind their way into back alleys. It's only then that it clicks and he picks up his pace, trying to catch up to the man in front of him. ]

You there-

[ He calls out. ]

Where are you going?

Silco | Zenith | Harbinger [[ EVERYONE DISLIKED THAT ]]

[zauneyete]

☾ KOWLOON — CONTROLLED CHAOS

[ The plan had been put into motion long, long before Amos even reached out that first time, when they had slowly been dancing around the possibility. Even before Aetós had approached him, and offered to give him ground, should he choose to accept it. Silco had never let his hand stay, when power was involved, and this had been no exception. The man had been planning this from the first few days of arriving in Kowloon, when he'd breathed dank air that was not nearly as polluted as his beloved Zaun's was, but wet and cold, and filling his lungs with it had felt the closest that he had been to home in a long, long time.

Silco was used to this. The energy, the thrum of it. The last time his people — and these Kowloonites, they were his people, though not his people, like Zaunites were — had risen up, Silco had taken the butt of an Enforcer's rifle to the face, and later, had felt fingers around his neck, and a betrayal that had scarred him even to this day. This, he expected, would go better. Had to go better, lest Silco find himself raging against the very combined powers of Kenos.

When things ramped up topside, there were howls of excitement and glee below, addicts rushing into Draumahol for their free doses, handed out like candy, given in droves. They were given extra for when they got topside, allowed to tear through the tunnels and burst forth, ready to launch themselves at the first Legionary or civilian they saw. They were promised, of course, that this would have to elicit pushback from Springstar, and didn't they want to see their city be free? Their hand was barely present, but wouldn't it be best to see it loosen entirely? Silco knew this language, knew what people like this wanted. They wanted total freedom, and even a light hand that was barely present rankled. Oh, they would hate to see the state Zaun was in. Perhaps, with the powerful in Kowloon, they could have been free sooner.

Perhaps.

Normally he didn't keep a lighter on him, but today, the pop of it felt satisfying, when he stepped out from Draumahol as another round of new addicts found their way to Draumahol. He spoke to them individually — as equals — murmuring low words in the dark, pressing vials of the fluid he and Sebastian and Bondrewd had developed carefully. He was not normally a man who got close to others, but when encouraging them? He pressed close, a hand on a shoulder, words in their ear. They looked excited, thrumming with it.

As the next few tore through the halls, whooping and laughing, Silco pulled a cigar out, and lit it with his lighter, a soft srink — pop of the metal flicking open, before he lit it.

If he was needed, either from an ally looking for something, or an enemy looking to strike, now was the time. Though Gregór lurked somewhere nearby. ]

☾ BLACK HOLE SUN, WON'T YOU COME? — CLOSED TO QUETZALCOATL

[ His hands shook, the moment he realized why Sebastian had led him out from his office in Draumahol, where he had been blissfully ignorant of the events happening topside — or rather, in Hisghstorm and the beyond — and Silco had been working on tallying the shimmer stocks when he'd been alerted that it was time, and that —

Why, his wish would come true.

His hands shook, and he was in a cold sweat, when they were in the Beyond, only a quick cornerstone's travel away, and his eyes danced around rapidly. The specter of Quetzalcoatl's temple loomed over them, they were not quite there, but close, and his hands — oh both hands — tensed, and relaxed, and tensed and relaxed. He had several knives on him, as he always did, but he could guess why he was here. Why Sebastian had led him here. What it meant. He had no coat on, and dwarfed by the temple, and the trees, he looked small, and frail, as he walked forward with uncertain feet, his target just in the clearing, Sebastian had said.

He wondered if Jinx would ever forgive him for this, if Set fulfilled his promise, if she found herself alive, and vibrant, and free. Would she forgive him for this? Oh, not the death. That was hardly her concern. For leaving her.

He didn't want to leave her. Truly, he didn't.

But he didn't have a choice, did he? His hand would slay Quetzalcoatl, in some form, or fashion. He would have his wish, and then. Then he would be nothing. His soul was forfeit.

But he would not show such reservation to her. To Quetzalcoatl, whom had mocked him openly, time and time again. No. He would enjoy this, and he would make sure that there was a world for his daughter at the end of this. He would fight, in the end, for his life, at least until the bitter end, but he would not let her see his hesitation.

He stepped into the clearing, knife in hand, one ever-opening eye gleaming in the dim light, as he approached. ]

☾ WILDCARD

[ For anything else! Silco will be only in Kowloon on the day of Cyrus's assassination, and then will be weirdly missing after the gun hits. He'll be in the aftermath after, looking for something (that set "stole" hehe) but after retrieving it will be around and able to be located. If you want to write me a starter, please feel free, or also feel free to reach out or hit up my plotting post if you want to do something! As long as it isn't during [SILCO'S WEIRD AND BAD ACTS] I'm pretty flexible! ]

🥺 (but cw for character death in this thread yall)

[muchalucha]

[ The moment that the beam of powerful light had blasted into Highstorm with precision, Sebastian had taken flight, and quite literally. He knew better than to try and soar too close to the source, since he was sure that Set had some role in this, and thus knew his form as a wayward crow, but it’s not Set or any of the other Meridian that had caught his eye. It was the radiant sun god retreating to the woods without the confidence that he’d expect from someone who had just struck such a decisive blow.

So, he’d descended into the forest. He followed and stalked her, and eventually, he’d taken a form that he knew would be meaningful from the reading that he’d done. Silent steps of a pitch-black jaguar allowed him to get close, and that was close enough to see that if there was ever a time, it was now. She was weak after that. It was plain to see. Perhaps another time, he might have enjoyed the hunt more and savored taunting her before fetching Silco. But he’d just lost one meal. He’s positively greedy for another.

She’d only barely seen the jaguar before it leapt out of the shadows to tackle her.

But now, she wishes it had been just a beast lurking in the shadows. Or even her brother, for that matter. Sebastian was brutally efficient, but it wasn’t to kill her. He’d just made sure she’d stay put while he went to fetch his master. The Beyond was a big place, after all. Even if she used Communion to call out for help, how would they find her when every tree looked like the other?

So, when Silco makes it to the little clearing, he probably smells the blood first. Sebastian really had been minimizing things, so far as his abilities went, but her struggling had made it worse. Her tendons are sliced to hobble her, and knives puncture through her hands and deep into the bark of the tree she’s leaned up against. Normally, she’d be able to remove them, though it’d be excruciating. But with how weak she is after firing off her Noble Phantasm and how deeply he’d dug them in, it hadn’t proved possible. Struggling anyways is where most of the new blood had come from. ]

You—

[ It's probably added insult to the injury that she doesn’t focus on Silco, though. Her attention is instead on Sebastian following behind his master like a shadow, and with a pained grunt and labored breaths, she starts to struggle again. ]

Ey, puta, you couldn’t fight me seriously? Were you afraid you’d lose?

[ It’s not that she doesn’t think Silco is a threat—she does. But her own pride is wounded now too. Sebastian had intentionally attacked her when she was weakest and when he knew he could win, and Quetzalcoatl’s sense of honor is deeply stung by it. ]

sakamoto ryouma | meridian | harbinger

[kaientai]

① SAVE OUR CITY open to all

[ It's almost too much to bear for an instant, and there is a long, dreadful moment before Ryouma manages to reign in the sense of despair that feels like it might crush him for real if he lets it.

It takes a bit longer than that to realise the feeling is external, but knowing that doesn't keep it from seeping into his head anyway — the Tribune is dead, and there are countless invaders in Springstar who are out for blood. If it's hit every other Meridian just as hard, that's not going to end well.

All at once, he shuts it down — even to his fellow Harbingers — withdrawing into whatever protective interference Oryou's Shard affords him. It isn't much, but it's enough to feel more confident that everyone can't just peek into his mind. There will be time to feel later, probably (or, maybe he'll just skip it). Right now, he needs to do something.

🅐 MERIDIAN + UNHARMONISED

[ He gets moving, and soon enough, Ryouma locates a group of civilians needing aid. He can tell they're wounded because he can smell the blood, which is enough to know that anything seeking an easy meal will also be able to smell it. It's clear that if he wants to get these people to a safe location, he won't be able to do it on his own.

That's why he doesn't hesitate to call out when he spots someone else passing nearby. ]

Hey! These people need our help. Give me a hand?

[ If nothing else, he just wants to save someone. ]

🅑 ZENITH

[ Ryouma isn't hunting for Zenite Shard-bearers, but it's inevitable that he'd encounter them while he's trying to keep innocent people out of harm's way.

He doesn't draw his weapon right away, but his hand rests upon the hilt of his sword anyway, just in case. His expression is unreadable, and his dark eyes have an eerie hollowness that belies the anger and frustration roiling beneath the surface. He's been a Servant for a very long time and has had to do plenty of fighting he never wanted to do, but this part never gets any easier. ]

You need to leave this city. Now. Don't make me have to do something neither of us will enjoy.

[ Whether the Zenite in question is helping or causing harm, he has no choice but to treat all Zenites with equal suspicion. Some might say his "duty" as a Meridian should compel him to attack first and ask questions later, but that's never been his way. ]

② AFTER THE STORM open to all

[ Ryouma hates everything about funerals and didn't even intend to go, but somehow, he's managed to find his way here anyway.

It's not about Cyrus directly — he barely knew the guy — but what Cyrus represented matters. It's the look on Cyrus' face during that welcome speech that Ryouma can't shake and that last bit of warmth and fond forgiveness before Cyrus was gone for good. It feels undeserved somehow.

His own death had never really bothered him, but he can't help but think about it now anyway. After all, they had both met violent ends at the hands of their enemies and not on a battlefield. To make matters worse, Ryouma had only been one person, just a nobody, and he'd been careless. Cyrus was a leader; he had an entire city to protect him, and they'd failed anyway. Ryouma doesn't blame anyone — even if he should and even if some part of him might be tempted — but he can't help the bitterness inside him whenever he thinks about it.

What could he have accomplished if he'd arrived here months ago? Why couldn't it have been different, like he'd hoped? He knows it's pointless to think about, but he's been pushing those feelings down for a long time — the futility of it all. Always being too late. On top of everything else, Ryouma just can't muster up the strength to force it all down again, at least for now. He's sure he'll manage it later, but everything is so much harder all alone.

In any case, it's fine; Ryouma is sure he'll survive for ten more minutes. He'll pay his respects, and then he can leave and find a bar in this city that isn't on fire so he can drink until it all stops.

Tomorrow is another day. ]

③ WILDCARD

[ ooc; if you're interested in something else, feel free to throw me a starter here or hmu @ koutenko! ]

🔆 QUETZALCOATL | LAST RESORT

[kaientai]

[ When Ryouma entered this fight, he didn't think it would be this difficult. It's only one monster, and he's stronger now than ever before, even if you take his weapon out of the equation.

Unfortunately, the problem is twofold. First of all, Ryouma is unaccustomed to having to fight solo. The muscle memory and reflexes gained over years of training and experience expect someone to be there to watch his back when he attacks too recklessly or fails to keep his defences up as well as he ought to. One-half of a coordinated attack doesn't work as well either when your enemy can see you coming.

The other compounding issue is that this is the first time he encounters Shimmer. No one had ever explained what sort of drugs were spreading around down Below, so this was a fight he'd walked into half-blind in that regard.

....Which is why he's now picking himself up out of the shattered rubble of a brick wall he's just been punched straight through, the two halves of his weapon turning back into a single katana. ]

Alright. You know, I really didn't want to have to make this unpleasant...

[ It's difficult to tell what sort of creature he's facing with the Shimmer in its system distorting its features, but the glowing eyes and threat of needle-sharp fangs and deadly claws are hard to miss. Even so, Ryouma still doesn't see a monster in his enemy, which has not done him any favours since he hasn't been fighting to kill. He knows exactly how that sets him at a disadvantage when his opponent is perfectly willing to kill him, but Ryouma was hoping he'd find a way to knock some sense into it somehow.

If Oryou had been here, she would've done it before it ever had the chance to strike him. She could always sense his hesitation and act decisively even when Ryouma couldn't. While he knew it wasn't cruelty, Ryouma never realised until now how much Oryou was probably trying to protect him by sparing him.

That's another thing he can't afford to think about right now. Those intrusive thoughts have cropped up more frequently since this crisis began, but he needs to focus. Ryouma wipes blood off of his face with the back of one hand and settles into an unfamiliar stance. He's seen others perform the movements enough to feel confident in his ability to mimic them, and it helps to know that it doesn't need to be perfect anyway because Jigen-ryu is all about power. One strike, one kill. It's not often he's willing to take a page out of Izō's playbook, but he's already acutely feeling what being a soft touch has earned him so far. ]

Sorry about this, but you're not leaving me much choice.

[ Ryouma raises the blade over his head in the highest position and waits — he wants the beast to charge and close the distance between them. He wants it to commit, and then he can strike... ]

d | meridian | advocate

[damnpire]

1. SPRINGSTAR ATTACK & AFTERMATH

a. [As someone routinely accustomed to fighting, there isn't much to do when Springstar explodes with violence than to go out with sword in hand.

In the Empório District, D's all-black figure is trailing down the street. In his right hand is his curved long sword, but in the crook of the other half an arm is a small girl. There is just enough arm left to cradle her near his shoulder where she holds onto the stiff collar of the long cape.

He prepared for the Kowloon monsters spilling up into Springstar, and he stops momentarily when the girl lifts her head and mumbles warily. When D turns to look behind them, it's to his right, shielding the girl on the opposite side.

In a voice not loud so much as resounding, he calls:] Who's there?

b. [Surprisingly, D had gone inside to pay respects to Cyrus, though he did not know the man especially well. But rather than linger too long, he has opted for taking up a place a bit of distance away from the Church, but in view of it.

Much out of place in Springstar, he is a solid shadow haunting the wall of a nearby building. He seems to be people watching by the way he has the brim of the hat held high enough for his eyes to scan the people coming and going to the Church.

Is he being nosy? Is he guarding...?

If you're hesitating to bother going toward the Church to go in, he helpfully says:]

They're accepting visitors.

2. HIGHSTORM...?

[D should definitely not be out here in this post Highstorm shot, high-alert state. He had mostly avoided Highstorm after the assassination, but managed to slip in once to claim some reprieve from Springstar's sunny sky. Minus all the darkness seeping in.

Once more, he's back inside Highstorm walls to see what he can glean from the damage done. Additionally, he's brought along a certain large and black, nightmarish, cybernetic steed; however, he's not riding it, but is, instead, walking along beside it. As much as he's disappointed in what has transpired between factions in such a short span, there are still a few people on this side of the moon he got along with. Checking in. Familiar Shard-bearers and business is the only reason he's here.

And he thankfully fits in--aesthetically anyway. So long as others don't have a form of reading his alignment, or remembering his his inhumanly beautiful face, he blends annoyingly into the scenery of the night city. Those who do, well... there is a "happy" little Meridian slipping through the shadows.]

1a

[sheezit]

[ If Meridian didn't promise full restoration to his world, then the very scenery in Springstar would be as close to home as Shez would get, the chaos and devastation of war all too reminiscent of Fodlan. The sort of familiarity that brings little to no comfort, but still tells him what needs to be done.

In some ways, he feels like he understands his old friends from Faerghus a little better, the weight of his duty as a Shard-bearer nearly enough to crush. Like them, he carries on.

And so he's thrown himself into patrolling each district in search of ways to help-- fending off monster assaults, seeking survivors and offering first aid, teleporting them to relative safety, anything to just do his part. Though he tries to be mindful of his surroundings and behavior, the truth is his reckless streak has him acting on impulse, and he very nearly launches himself at the mysterious figure absconding with a small child in their arm(s?) but something like vague recognition flashes across his eyes when the figure turns. ]

Hey, I think I've seen you before--

[ Wasn't it... during the last trial, alongside fellow advocates? Yeah, that sounds about right, in which case Shez feels that little bit more confident to trust his gut around this guy. ]

You're with Meridian, too, right? Need help with the kid?

[ As to reinforce he means no threat, Shez's own sword disappears in a dusting of light. He can summon it back at will, but this is as close to unarmed as he can be. ]

Cid Garlond | Zenith | Savant

[youngprodigy]

I Before the event
[Link’s warning means that Cid is able to flee before the manor is attacked. Given he couldn’t get into contact with the man after the warning went out, he could only assume the worst. The place he relocates to is small, more of a place to sleep than a home he plans on spending any amount of time in. He can’t bring himself to leave Highstorm, because where would he go? But at least he’s safe.

Which is more than he can say for Link. What the hells happened?

Something is coming. He just doesn’t know what. But as much as he worries for Link, there’s little he can do. He’s no combatant, and wouldn’t know where to start. But that doesn’t prevent him from approaching Zenite shardbearers.]

...Did you get that communion message too?

It’s asked in a hushed voice, to avoid alarming uninvolved citizens.]


II During the event
[Even with the warning, Cid couldn’t have predicted the blast that destroys the manor. He’d been worried something terrible was going to happen, but like this? It’s a lot to process. Too much, even. His memories of the Calamity are spotty at best, and the Eorzean gods knew how well Cid had handled that.

He’s no combatant, but Cid is well aware of his strength.

There could be people trapped under the rubble, innocent people. People he needs to find, and help them to safety.

He looks around frantically for help, roping in anyone nearby.]

You! Help me, there could be survivors.

[But getting civilians out of what’s left of the manor is one thing, the more difficult part is evacuating people around the epicenter. Where they’ll go or what they’ll do, he doesn’t know. He’s not even certain what he’ll do.]

Keep your chin up. Now more than ever, you need to stand tall. It’s what Lady Yima would want.

[The encouragement seems to comfort the civilians, even as Cid can’t even truly believe his own words. It’s not fine; nothing is okay, but he has to keep on going anyway.]

III For Midna and Yuri
[In the absolute chaos that follows the destruction of the manor and assassination of Cyrus, it takes an entire day for Cid to even begin to process what the events mean. But eventually, he reaches out, sending the two Meris the same message, separately, through Communion.]

I heard nothing that would indicate an attack was imminent. I’m sorry.

[And he is. Though Cyrus’s death doesn’t matter to him, what does matter is what it, and Yima’s apparent death, means. They can no longer afford to be idle.]

We must decide our course of action, before the next Oracle appears. We likely don’t have a lot of time.

IV wildcard
[Have something specific in mind? Cid will be spending the duration of the event in Highstorm, but other than that, I’m very open to things!]

III - I'M HERE.

[envoyoftwilight]

[To say she has fully digested everything would be blatantly untrue. She doesn't much expect that anyone else has either, honestly. It is a lot to take in for both Meridian and the Zenith, which is a shockingly open-minded perspective for her to take on this. Cid's communion finds her in like mind, regardless.

What can they do? Anything? Once more, she feels a tint of lacking power. She, a proud princess of her people.]

The best plans are the ones that are held close to the heart. If too many had known of what was going to happen, it wouldn't have been executed properly.

[And she gives thought to that as someone who isn't exactly a tactical mastermind.]

One has to wonder what we can even do now. It may be too late already.

Yuber | Zenith; Iconoclast

[eightfoldfiend]

Various starters here. Want to do something else? Contact me on the plotting post any time.

The Attack (Springstar)-OTA

[eightfoldfiend]

[It takes no convincing, involves no moral questioning, for Yuber to agree to join the march on the Springstar. Every predator needs to eat.

He targets the Legionnaires first, ignoring the scrambling civilians in favor of more entertaining prey. They fall easily and with his power, he draws their corpses upright and compels them to walk beside him. The dead bodies rapidly decay into shambling skeletons.

Once he has raised three Legionnaires he feels restless again and decides to make his own fun. He conjures a dense cloud of fog that is 20 feet long around a city street and waits. Some people might see the skeletons first, rattling towards them. Others may see Yuber himself leaping out like a rabid leopard from the depths of the fog.

Those who enter the fog may sense his presence as a heavy, oily power in the air. It could create either a sense of dread or curiosity, but one thing is certain: this oppressive aura of malice does not come from a human. Iconoclasts can sense the intent behind this fog and these attacks. Yuber isn't just fighting for pleasure, he's fighting for sustenance. He will continue fighting until his cravings are satisfied.]

link 🍎 closed starters

[bakedapple]

for shez

[bakedapple]

[ Three laborious weeks in the frozen wilderness of the Beyond had paid off. Link and Drizzt got their first clear sign that they were close from a horned owl with blue and gold feathers, who in exchange for a scrap of deer meat, muttered something about seeing smoke trails rising from a structure nearby. Two days later, the pair finally spotted the dark silhouette of the Temple of Isis in the distance, framed by the speckled firmament and a barely perceptible glow of torches and campfires.

Their first attempt to get close did not succeed. One second, they were inching closer; the next, they found themselves running in the opposite direction, struck with inexplicable terror. It was a Fear spell. The Meris are taking no chances, even out in the middle of nowhere... but certain methods had brought Link and Drizzt this far. Those same methods were just as capable of doing the job they came here to do, albeit in a more roundabout, awkward way.

So they withdraw, regroup, and form a plan for the following day. Drizzt ventures in one direction with Guen, while Link tries to inch as close as he can get to the Temple without setting off the anti-Zenith spells protecting it. Along the way, he uses the final remains of the dried fruit he took with him from Highstorm to amass a small squadron of inky black magpies and ask them, in the odd language of Kenosian magic, to fly around the Temple and come back with news of what they saw if they want more food.

The cloud of birds swarm around the Temple for over an hour, emboldened by the promise of rare treats and their own corvid natures. Wildlife is not uncommon in the Beyond, but to see this many birds in the dead of winter, clustered around the same spot and acting as fearless as city pigeons, is unusual. Perhaps the fault lies in his choice of animal, or perhaps Link had become too comfortable using this spell over the last few weeks, but what happens next is easy to notice if you're, say, a fresh Meri Shard-Bearer, accustomed to mercenary work, looking to help out his side by patrolling the area around the Temple.

When the birds finally withdraw, they all descend towards the same spot in the woods south of the Temple, just outside the range of the protective spells. When Shez wanders in that direction to investigate, he'll hear Link's voice before anything else. ]

P-Please, calm down... you have to finish telling me what you saw first, okay?

[ He's talking to the magpies. They chatter excitedly at him as he pinches morsels of crust off a roll of stale bread and toss them onto the snow for them to gobble up. ]

Chloe Price | Zenith | Iconoclast

[punkisntdead]

I. SPRINGSTAR

[Oh, coming out here was a stupid, stupid idea. The newly-arrived and newly-attuned Zenith was too damn nosy for her own good. Words like war and invasion should have told her to keep her ass right there in Highstorm where it was safe, but if she’s going to get pulled into this otherwordly shit, she wants to at least see the opening salvo with her own eyes.]

a. doing the damsel thing
[The problem with getting a look at things like this is that Chloe is near-useless in a fight this big. Which suits her fine, since she’s not here right now to leap into one or to attract attention at all—but intentions like that mean little when the streets are filled with chaos.

There’s only so much that keeping a low profile can do when everything is going to shit around her. When she heard there was gonna be an attack on the opposing city, she figured, y’know, armies marching in. Not blood-thirsty horror movie monsters stalking around and trying to sink their teeth into whoever is closest. With as undiscerning as these attack are, it’s only a matter of time until Chloe accidentally stumbles into the crosshairs of one.

Some hulked-out freak has turned his attention on her as she tries to slip through the entertainment district, and flipping over a table at some pub’s outdoor seating only buys her so much time to make a break for it. Cursing under her breath and feet pounding the pavement as fast as she can muster, her eyes scour the surroundings for a hiding spot, a weapon—or someone to get her out of this bind.]

Hey! Get this psycho away from me!

b. crime time
[Look, she sure as hell is useless in a fight here, but if there’s one thing she is good for, it’s poking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Later, as the not-long-for-this-world Tribune leads his pursuers farther out, Chloe manages to slip in with the crowds closer to the city center. Many civilians are seeking refuge at the Church of Heliopolis and it’s easy enough to slide in without much scrutiny, being such an unknown quantity as she is. But the church halls themselves are too bustling for her purpose here; she splits off from the crowd at the first opportunity, making her way instead toward the nearby rectories.

Sequestered in the shadow at one side of the building, Chloe has pulled out a brush and a small can of black paint from her bag and gotten to work on defacing some property. You know, the sort of thing you do when your team is in the middle of an assassination. Meridians or unharmonized are free to stumble upon her in the act and give her an earful or try to stop her.

For Zenith or particularly nosy unharmonized Shard-bearers: perhaps Chloe dragged you into this little mission (thanks for being a body-guard!) or maybe you were already intending to do some snooping of your own before the blue-haired woman invited herself. Either way, she wraps up this detour of her crude painting of someone giving two middle fingers to the sun, then turns your way with a very self-satisfied smile.]

Perfect. Now that that’s out of the way, how about we get our snoop on?

[Nothing wrong with a little breaking and entering into a priest’s home, right?]

II. HIGHSTORM

[Yeah, turns out Highstorm isn’t so safe either, after all. (That’s how war fucking works, genius.)

Chloe’s damn lucky she’d only been lingering in the entrance hall of the manor when the attack happened. She’s scratched up and her head hurts like hell after getting clocked by some stray debris, but she’s finding herself too pissed off to care about that at the moment. Of course the other side would retaliate. It was stupid of her to even think for a second that things would stay safe around here after something like that attack.

Stupid of her to think that life could let her relax for even a second. As she picks up a stray chunk of splintered wood and glances over the ruin left of the Manor, she can’t help but think of Arcadia Bay. The ruined state of things as she and Max picked through the rubble for the essentials before fleeing from the site of destruction they’d let happen. Here, it’s just one building. One building that dredges forth an enormous memory and the baggage that comes with it. She really is destined to fuck everything up where ever she goes, isn’t she?]

Fuck! [Anger flares, and she throws that stray piece of wood down with as much force as she can muster. And if you happen to be in the path of its bounce off the stone path, then sorry, but she sure as hell isn’t paying attention.] Are you fucking kidding me?

III. WILDCARD
[Feel free to put a spin on the above or toss me anything you might have an idea for and I’ll roll with it. She’s not lingering too long in Springstar, but she’ll be moping around Highstorm after the attack if you want to play with the spooky effects in the city. Shoot me a message if you want to hash out ideas for anything.]

II

[alliterating]

[ She doesn't live in the manor. She's never wanted to be directly under Yima's gaze. But today (tonight?) she's drawn toward it by the blast of light and the explosion that's shattered the stillness. She's been keeping to herself after hearing about the attack in Springstar, not sure of what to make of it or how she feels. She'd known something had been about to happen - and she might have told a few people.

Right now she's a little more worried about the destruction raining down on the city she lives in. So she comes to the manor, her gaze sharp, searching for living minds. ]

Hey! Are you hurt?

[ She's brusque and direct. Not trying to be sugar-coated or any kind of 'nice' in the moment. ]

You can curse about it later!

claude von riegan | meridian | stargazer

[leicesters]

I. DEFENDING SPRINGSTAR - OTA
[Claude has an uneasy feeling when he first hears of the unrest in Springstar; what begin as small scale skirmishes are still concerning enough that he saddles up and takes his wyvern from Alenroux to investigate. By the time he arrives, violent clashes are erupting all over the city like wildfire, and spreading the Legionary just as thin.

His concern is first for Heliopolis -- but from the sky, he notices a breakaway group of blood-crazed monsters heading for Katoikitikós. He brings Naira down to fly lower and draws his bow. The Legionary can handle themselves, but unarmed residents will be far less prepared, if they've even had any warning at all of an imminent attack.]

a. MERIDIAN/UNHARMONISED
[For anyone who joins Claude in the fight, he's dismounted his wyvern and taken to battling through the narrow streets; there's a streak of blood across his face, he's favouring one leg, and there's scorch marks on stone littered here and there where he's called down his wyvern to help deal with the sheer numbers threatening to overrun the area. Though he's mostly unharmed, he is running low on arrows, and he doesn't fancy his chances getting up close to a Shimmer-riddled monster with his blade.

There are a group of them in the square, one or two fighting over the what remains of a corpse, while the rest are advancing on Claude. His heart is in his throat, he's debating whether it's too late to call for help via Communion, when Claude spots who might be an ally enter the square. He calls over to them, putting an arrow to his bowstring and backing away from the assembled group.]

Mind helping me out of this mess?

b. ZENITH
[Now that he'd thrown in his lot with defending the residential district, he can't exactly abandon the people there. So for any Zenites hoping to capitalise on the confusion -- or maybe they'd just wandered and taken a wrong turn on the way to Heliopolis -- they'll be greeted by an arrow fired from a rooftop, aimed to narrowly miss their head. Claude steps into view and nocks another arrow.]

The next one won't miss.

[He's either giving them a chance to turn and leave, or to at least explain their intentions.]


II. PAYING RESPECTS - MERIDIAN
[Cyrus's death sticks in Claude's chest and lodges there like a knife. He knew the man's life was in danger -- figured it always was, knowing all too well the many enemies that come with leadership. But in this case, knowing who did it, knowing if maybe he'd trusted his instincts and gone straight to Heliopolis, or even before all this, if he'd done more after that day he caught the culprit lurking around Springstar...

There's no point in dwelling on what ifs in war. All the same, Claude can't just accept that forgiveness so readily, either. He respected Cyrus. Might not have always trusted him, but he liked him, and certainly far more than he ever would the likes of Yima.

He hangs back while others mourn, give speeches, voice their anger and frustration, and he listens. It's only when the room goes quiet and most have already left that Claude approaches. He feels compelled to speak, as if maybe the Meridian itself could hear him, even if Cyrus no longer can. After a long moment, he settles on:]

You can rest, now. None of this will be in vain.


III. COMMUNION - MERIDIAN
[Claude has much he wants to discuss in the aftermath of all this, but he has one pressing thought he has to share with the rest of Meridian first and foremost.]

She's not actually dead, is she? Yima, I mean.

[He's not trying to rain on any parades, and he's also not about to correct any Zenites who think she is. But for his part, he's unconvinced.]


IV. WILDCARD
[Choose your own starter, or ask for one over here! I'd be happy to write custom starters for Zenith/unharmonised characters in particular, since most of these prompts are Meri-centric.]

II

[hauntedking]

[ There are losses in war and yet it still wears him down. Dimitri lingers himself, watching the funeral, listening to the speakers, feeling a pang of sorrow in his own heart. He hadn't entirely trusted Cyrus. Hadn't known what to make of him. But this still stings - especially coming as this does at the hands of a group who have now made it quite clear what they'll do to try and wrest an advantage. More than that it's exposed some of the sharper internal divides in the city and Dimitri is thinking on those. So he waits and he watches and as Claude stands in the nearly empty chamber, he approaches as well. ]

Not if I have anything to say about it. [ He adds in a low tone; an afterthought to Claude's dedication. ]

You came out of that alright, Claude? [ He sounds a little tired himself. ]

Gavial | Zenith | Advocate

[kinaesthesia]

I. SPRINGSTAR - MAKING A RUCKUS

[Gavial’s never been one to be anxious in the lead-up to a battle. There’s a little bit of atypical restlessness plaguing her this time, knowing the stakes and how easily this can go wrong. And that blip of warning from Link days before is leaving her with a bad feeling.

But none of that matters. The day arrives, and she slides into her role just like Amos asked her to. Cause some trouble in noticeable locations, harass the Legionary a bit, keep attention and extra Meridian help away from the attack on Cyrus. It’s a fight like any other, and if there’s one thing she’s good at above all else—as much as she’d love to claim that the answer is medicine—it’s fighting.

So she can be found making a scene in various points of the city. In the plaza of the shopping district, in the park, amidst the gardens at the outskirts of the residential district. Meridians looking for a fight will find one with her, or if they’re more the type to solve things with words rather than fists they’re more than welcome to try.]

II. SPRINGSTAR - RESCUE/TEAM-UP

[She might be here to do the job she was asked, but there’s one little problem; she (perhaps naively) hadn’t been aware that the increasing attacks from Ryad residents were tied into this whole mess. It’s too loud, it’s too destructive, and the entire reason she agreed to assist in making sure this assassination happened was to avoid needless civilian casualties. Cut off the head of the serpent to spare the body.

So in between trying to stall for attention herself, Gavial stops to pick fights with the brutes from the Below along the way. The civilians spurn her direct help by this point—what lingering good-will she might have mustered last month be damned—but that’s not going to stop her from getting in the way of threats against them.

At one point she rushes in, casts that shield spell she’s been working on tweaking on someone about to be pounced on by a shimmer-addled brute. Maybe it’s a civilian and you opt to give her a hand in protecting them, or maybe it’s you she’s rescuing from a sudden attack. Either way, as the brute bounces off the invisible shield, she rushes in to shoulder check the guy and send him careening into a nearby cart.]

Time to pick on someone your own size, I think.

[Look, if you count her axe, she is pretty damn imposing in stature.]

III. ZENITH - LATER IN THE AFTERMATH

[Those who know Gavial know that she’s pretty laid back ninety-percent of the time. She takes even serious things on with a smile and a laugh and assurances not to worry.

As she looks over the wreckage of the manor a couple of days after the attack, there’s not much of that usual cheer to be found. Her expression is hard, posture tense. Discord had been a creeping thing between the time she’d been stuck languishing in Springstar after the fight and the roiling feelings of revulsion at the way things had ultimately played out, and it shows itself plain in the darkening of sclera around golden eyes. She’d have to worry about that later, but for right now, she’s too agitated about everything that’s happened over the last few days to let that be the priority.

There’s an effort to help clean up the mess that’s been made of the manor. Wreckage to clear, personal belongings to fish out of the rubble. It’s a tiring and time-consuming task, but at least it gives her a chance to be busy. She climbs on into the debris, casting a glance at whoever is nearby combing over this wing of the manor’s remains.]

Think a bunch of the rooms people’d been using were over here, right?

[Time to get to work.]

IV. WILDCARD
[Give me whatever or hit me up to plot anything. Gavial’s being a nuisance during the assassination and will ultimately be getting jailed for a little stint before she breaks out with Link. She’ll be absent for the manor’s destruction bc of that, but she’ll be around for stuff a little while after.]

III

[alliterating]

[ Senti is there and for once being a bit of a help, although she's mostly picking through the rubble. She's not sure how she feels about any of this. So she's kept most of her thoughts to herself, locked behind a thin-lipped scowl and a stormy demeanor. But that softens a little when she sees a familiar face. She stands from where she's half-crouched, peering under a piece of rubble. ]

Guess so. I didn't spend a lot of time up here.

[ She examines Gavial critically, her frown deepening. ]

What's up with you? [ She can see some of those symptoms creeping in... ]

tony (terra e) • zenith iconoclast

[tresemme]

I. ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴡᴀʀ (sᴘʀɪɴɢsᴛᴀʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ)

[ tony has no loyalty to zenith beyond the knowledge that he’s on their side, but when he’s told to go, he goes.

springstar needs to be distracted, and although his fellow zenites are doing well, tony knows he can do better. there are plenty of heroes occupied with protecting the citizenry that can’t defend themselves against the encroaching battle, but tony does not bother to engage them. he’s a seasoned soldier, and he knows the best way to weaken morale is to make the other side realize that there’s no place to run. ]

Where do you think you’re going?

[ tony targets the weakest he can find by appearing seemingly from nowhere, his body aglow in a blue light and a wild look in his eyes. if he isn’t stopped by some enterprising meridian or a kind-hearted zenite, springstar will find themselves a number of civilians short by the time this is all over. ]

II. ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ (ʜɪɢʜsᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴀғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ)

[ so, yima is dead. he supposes.

tony doesn’t care, really. he didn’t like her, didn’t know her, and the only loss he feels is the physical ache that he knows must have been forced upon him. it leaves him both bitter and antsy, but more than that, the retaliation has left him without a home.

he’ll figure it out, but there’s a lull in the time between now and then that he has not yet figured it out.

he spends more time than he’d like circling the skies above highstorm, arguably to keep an eye on things, but more realistically because he’s cautious about coming down for too long to involve himself. what this means practically is that he can see when some shard-bearers are lost down below, and even if he doesn’t understand the magical nature of it just yet, attributing it to disorientation after a fight is easy enough.

he flies down, awkwardly reaching a hand out. ]

Hey. What are you looking for?

III. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʜᴇʀᴇ (ʜɪɢʜsᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴀғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ)

Grandpa!

[ the cry that rips out of him sounds like it hurts, and the mental resonance that follows actually does. whether iconoclast or otherwise, all those in the vicinity get fear and desperation like a child who has lost their mother in a crowd as tony’s uncontrolled emotions ripple out.

he shoves people out of the way without a care, but when he reaches the place he was so sure he had seen the flutter of a red cape… there’s nothing. ]

Grandpa! [ he calls out again, but he doesn’t get any response. ] Grandpa, wait…

[ he quickly brushes the forming tears away, and if anyone has come closer to look after being blasted with tony’s immature emotions, he snaps at them in annoyance. ]

What are you looking at?!

IV. ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ

( anything else! my plotting post is here if you see something you like, or you can just surprise me. tony will be around springstar bullying people for the first half, so feel free to just surprise him for some pvp or camaraderie. )

I lets go

[clockpunk]

[ it's encroaching on later day, and chrono is already exhausted. rubble being thrown around and one too many close encounters with attackers has left him scratched up, scrapes on his clothes and palms, a wicked cut splicing his right sleeve open.

but he can still move, still breathe, still heal. try and defend where he can.

he recognises tony, somehow. communion is an odd thing, getting a full sense of another person despite never seeing them face-to-face. their conversation was a memorable one, despite the tense start - chrono had enjoyed their back-and-forth, honestly.

so he knows that he's out of his league, here. but he steps out of his low-light hiding place in the gap between two buildings, and positions himself in front of the few fear-frozen residents. ]

Don't touch them.

nebula 👾 meridian 👾 exalt

[furibund]

👾 sibling bonds (backdated to beginning of february)

[ Nebula has been on this stupid island for far longer than she ever wanted or hoped to be. Not that she had a choice in the matter, but the longer it stays the more it becomes more normal. It's not home it will never be home. Not when there is a whole city waiting for her and the reminders here are constant. She keeps Drax's knives in her boots, as he would have, and sometimes she carries Quill's walkman. Rarely, at least the knives she can say are weapons the music player is just... Sentimental. ]

[ Sentimental is the word of this particular day given it's also the day she's received a gift - a gift she one was already given, in the paper mache Christmas present. Nebula had meant to take it "home" with little fanfare before anyone can see but sometimes - as luck would have it - you get dragged into other things. ]

[ "Other things," being passing by a restaurant that's passingly familiar. You don't forget the strange animal - otter? - statue sitting out front. You certainly would remember the small group of other otters, in matching dark uniforms and with weapons chittering away. She'd tucked the item under her arm and watched, curious and wary for a few minutes until they begin to act.

This is your chance to A) Watch Mr. Tibbs get defended (while trying to protect a very delicate present) or B) Jump in and help??? Or something else?

Or it could be C) when the Otters scurry off - not for the last time - she spots you and glares. It's as furious a look as it is embarrassment as she demands: ]

Do you know what that was all about?

[ small note: This is for the Mr. Tibbs side quest stuff. A little more light-hearted! Inform her about the blight and the furry little friend or take on some otters for a bit of silliness. Slipping this in because it coincides with her thought process for the rest! ]

👾 sunlight

[ This outcome was not unexpected. ]

[ This is war. ]

[ Nebula has known battles all of her life. Her body is made from a myriad of parts, most gifted to her after she lost another one. She knows fighting, cruelty, and killing like the back of her hand. To say she knows war is a different thing entirely - there can be no war if you crush the opposition before they have a hand to play. That is what her father taught her. What she remembers as a scared little girl, not once on her own before, standing in his presence as her home had burned around her.]

[ It was what he left of every planet they visited - not quick enough, supplied enough, strong enough to fight back. ]

[ And it is what she feels now about Springstar. It is how she sees the Zenites - who encouraged an onslaught for the victory of killing a single man. They are not much better. Not for the first time, she thinks of her father and his belief a perfect, better universe meant the destruction of millions for those left behind. Not for the first time, does she think that a perfect world that means such a callous disregard for anything else is incorrect. Beyond incorrect, but there are no words to state her fury.]

[ Fury she has learned, however, is not enough. It can drive, but it is not a tool. It is a poison she let lead her for too long - enveloped and carassed her in the way a parent never had. She cannot let anger win now, even if she feels no remorse for any action she took in Set's gun. She had meant what she said: Yima needed to die and anyone who raised arms for her knew the consequences. It is why she does not falter at Set's message, does not wait for another call. ]

[ Their leaders are "dead". Their people are not. She speaks first to Set before she gathers herself.]

[ A. COMMUNION - MERIDIAN Nebula notoriously does not like communion. She has been to known to shut down attempts and briskly cut them off. For once, she reaches out first. A gesture like a firm knock, an expression unblinkingly ahead. Steel resolve met with cool snow, far more gentle than she would lead others to believe. Here, her voice lacks any metallic tinge: ]

They will be scrambled. That does not mean there will not be another assault.

[ Because there will be. She knows this is just the beginning, it is fact. It is a fact they must all now know. For a short time, however, there is a reprieve. She does not think they will attack so soon. ]

They have shown they lack conviction. They are headless.

Now would be our time to invade.

[ She says it simply, as one might order a drink. But this war cannot be won by crushing them - or perhaps it could be if there are no Zenites left to fight for the oracle??? But. She pauses and tries again: ]

This is not our home, but it is theirs. They are like us, they have no part in this war. They can only live and they have been slaughtered.

Why? [ She phrases it as an "it doesn't matter," statement. Not because it doesn't, but because the act has happened. Because it has happened and there is no turning back from it. The only thing to do - ]

Rescue efforts need to start immediately. A collection of the names of people who are missing or lost and a search party. [ Rattled off, almost like she's had experience. Almost as if she'd had five years of it. ] If you are injured or do not have strength, you can help with that.

If you are capable of movement, buildings need repair and rubble cleared.

[ It almost sounds like an order with that firmness there. But there's another pause - a moment of quiet and there is something there that's intangible, warm: ]

If you must mourn, do it quickly. The living are still in need of help. Protecting all of the worlds means theirs, too.

If you cannot do that, don't get in the way.

[ ... And with that - with saying more than she possible has to anyone especially in communion - the door is shut with that too easy slam. ]


[ B. A GUARDIAN Unsurprisingly, Nebula does not rest after her message. She doesn't hang around to see if anyone answers - even if she does check in on occasion - and after a long period of fighting she is back on the streets. She has changed, into a uniform she will say is more for durability than comfort and nothing more - She does not care to think further. ]

[ She tries to ignore how the shadows stretch further than they have before. She tries to ignore the way she sees glimpses from the corner of her eyes — stops when she sees Gamora. Briefly. Past Gamora. And swallows hard when she passes a corner and sees that same restaurant. It's surprisingly undamaged and the otter guards out front, a more haunting figure today. Everyone deserves a second chance, Groot says in her head. She wants to dismiss it - because that means the Zenites do, too. ]

[ It's as good a location as any and Nebula sets up shop - gathers locals looking for lost loved ones. And while her instinct is to say they'll probably be dead, she shows surprising gentleness in taking names, last seen locations, and descriptions. Promises word will come to them one way or another (and it's a promise she makes to herself, as a guardian). If a Meridian Shardbearer passes by she'll glare-guilt them into coming over... Especially towards the end of the day, when she's all out of pleasantries and people's out and starting to snap at people. ]

[ If she's not there, she can be found taking charge of picking up rubble, clearing broken glass, and patching windows. Some areas of the Districts know her - during her down time she has generally helped in construction efforts. It would seem, rebuilding efforts are no different to her. Why would they be? She was doing this on Knowhere for months. ]

[ Occasionally, another addict raddled being from Kowloon rises up when she's nearby. It takes no time for her to abandon her task and get between them or would be victims - or on occasion attempts at making her the victim. Feel free to help fight, protect, or prevent something! ]

[ Throughout it all, Nebula holds fast to what she said. She does not rest, even though after a few days she probably should. Even when she's made the tenth announcement that day someone was found dead. There's barely relief when she finds someone who was missing, even if there's a flickering. A ghost of a smile. Like this is what it should be about. She doesn't stop and if she tires - there's another day for that.

Right now is a time for action. ]

OOC / WILDCARD

[ Sorry these aren't much! Please feel free to use any elements for a starter or hit me up if you want something more/personalized. Nebula will pretty much be heading up trying to unify a search/rescue response for missing people in Springstar. While I didn't super include fighting prompts, I am tagging out to people to do so! If you want something, please feel free to reach out to me in any way comfortable. As always feel free to make up your own prompt or hit me up for further plotting in PM or hopewillbloom!]

Guardian

[sheezit]

[ Hey, no need for glare-guilting, okay? He was already coming on his way to help!

The truth is, he doesn't disagree with her approach; Shez, too, has been relentless in pitching in wherever he can, almost to the point of stretching himself too thin. It even makes think of home, of a king too hellbent on shouldering everyone's burdens and hardly ever accepting any help, his sense of duty and guilt so overwhelming that it could crush him, leaving his closest social circle scrambling in the aftershock. For someone who had so often scolded his stubborn friend and physically dragged him away from work, Shez may as well have started acting similarly in his absence...

But, he's not about to let all that Faerghan influence take over, not fully, anyway. He still knows his own limits, still allows himself moments to breathe when his body begs for rest, still finds the strength to move forward without pushing too far. And from what he's been seeing of this one particular busybody, well, he's not sure he can say the same about her, so: ]

Yo. [ He greets with a wave, though it lacks in his usual enthusiastic energy. ] I'm on relieve duty today. Just fill me in and go get some rest.

[ Does he expect Nebula to comply without protest? Absolutely not. But that's not one of the many ways he's been under Faerghan influence; his stubbornness has very much always been his own. ]

hiiro amagi | unharmonized | harbringer

[umurice]

i. in the sun-dappled sprawl of springstar

[The chaos had caught him by surprise, and seeing the screaming civilians as they ran away from the invaders was enough to spur him into action. It didn't really matter, not to him, what the reason for the attack was. It never mattered, because innocent people were involved and Hiiro couldn't accept that. He knew there were whispers of unrest, had been uneasy himself, but to see it with his own eyes...

Of course he had beeen scared. Hiiro once thought, back home, he was invincible. He was strong, he was skilled, but everyone in the village was. Men, women, children-- everyone was strong enough to be part of an army. Yet being strong and being ready were two different things, and Hiiro was not ready for a war.

So he focused on what he can, trying to help who he can, and forcing himself to move on when he fails to help someone. Carrying a child here, defending an elderly there. He didn't kill anyone, even with Yuri's knife tucked safely within reach, and instead focused on knocking them out. He was thankful for the lessons on how to apply the right pressure on the right points for that, but even then he had to hide those bodies. He didn't want others to take advantage of that to seek revenge. There were monsters too, and he wasn't strong enough to take them down, so he could only watch in horror when they attack someone, and he's dragged away. A child, they say, even though he could still fight.

If you are Zenite attacking someone, Hiiro might tackle you to get you away from someone. If you are defending a citizen, he'll immediately help out, against people or monsters. If you're the poor citizen attacked, he'll take the defensive position. Either way, his war cry is the same.]

Stop this at once! Leave them alone.


ii. additional matters

[When the chaos calms down, Hiiro can be found moving around and helping people-- or well, trying to. As one who is Unharmonized, even he gets the ire of the citizens, those he saved and those who still lived, angry at him for not choosing a side. How dare he, when he might be with those Zenites? He looks distressed, trying to calm someone down, only for them to shove him away so he doesn't get near.]

Please, you are injured. Let me--

[Get away! Get away from me! And Hiiro stands there, looking lost with some supplies in hand, unable to do anything. He looks around, spots someone who might be able to help him, even as he speaks quickly.]

Are you Meridian? Can you help me?


iii. a lighthouse against the encroaching storm

Brother! Hey, please-- wait, let me pass-- Brother! Come back.

[Hiiro pushes past the crowd, getting their ire as he tries his best to get through, looking frantic. How could he not? After the events that occurred, seeing Rinne in any capacity here was enough to make him frantic, hoping he could get to him.]

Brother! Bro---oof!

[And in his attempt to get to him, he crashes hard into you. Sorry about that.]


iv. wildcard

[None of these work? PM me or hit me up at marchingon for plotting and I'll give you a custom starter!]

i

[epiprocta]

[ Gen's simply been watching the chaos so far, lurking in the shadows of an alleyway; the dark of his clothes and the hood he keeps pulled low over his face help him blend in with the darkness, and who's going to waste any of their attention on him when there's all this mess going on? It's not like he's been enjoying the sight of civilians being assaulted by monsters, but -- well. That's just how it's meant to be. This is the role he's meant to play here, in this moment. Keep an eye on the situation, lay in wait, be ready for when Amos gives him the signal.

Collateral damage can't be helped in a war, probably.

So he's not sure why he bothers stepping in at all. Maybe it's just the fact that he's been watching this idiot redhead, clearly lacking any abilities or weapons, still throwing himself into the fray for a while, now. Maybe it's because he's getting tired of hearing that annoying screaming. Maybe it's because the laughable demand of 'stop this at once!' grates at his nerves in just the right way.

Either way, as Hiiro backs away from a monster that's clearly sets its sights on him and is approaching him with heavy footsteps, Gen suddenly speaks up from his place in the alleyways, just off to Hiiro's side, his voice a low drawl. ]

Were you expecting someone to swoop in an' help you, just 'cause you were doing the same for other people?

[ He makes no move to be that savior himself. Not yet. ]

amos burton | zenith | exalt

[baltimores]

[ Nevermind what he did the day before; Amos had slipped back to Highstorm, a little worse for the wear but fulfilled, found something to eat, and gone to bed. He dreamt a dreamless sleep, and woke up as refreshed as ever.

Go for a run, check. Make breakfast, check. Strength training, check. Clean off, check. Unlock his front door, turn his sign to open, head on back to his workspace to tackle his own projects, check check check.

He is too busy with a welding torch to notice to any streaks of light outside, but that doesn't matter; not when seconds later he is doubled over, gasping in shock and pain. (There is no connection in his mind that he was responsible for something similar on a different populace the day before. He didn't feel anything then. He does now.)

Amos reaches for Yima. Finds nothing.

Protective gear is stripped and left on a workbench as Amos throws himself out the door, hightailing it across town to the destruction looming in the distance. ]

i. the manor

[ Not that he's ever believed in hell, but seeing the manor — the place he first met Yima — reduced to fire and ruin, that's what it maybe could be.

For a second, he stops. Shuts his eyes. Takes a deep breath — and then dives into the wreckage of a place he'd briefly called home. ]

a. work

[ With enhanced strength and gravity magic both, Amos does a pretty good job at sifting through rubble, clearing away debris, and even somewhat maintaining structural integrity (enough to at least give any survivors he finds time to get out) on his own — which means if you come cross him, then there's a decent chance he can either help you find something or at least get out before more of the building collapses.

This means absolutely nothing in case of fire, and fuck all when he moves a particularly large chunk of debris — exposing flame below to more oxygen, enough that he can suddenly feel the heat against his skin. Amos hisses as he tosses the debris aside, looking around almost helplessly for the first person he makes eye contact with. ]

You got anything to help me put this out?

[ He's not authoritative, but firm — they need to work together on this; come help him out. ]

b. rest

[ There is only so much one can do; especially when one has been at this since he got here, seemingly without stopping. Amos' movements are obviously flagging, exhaustion taking hold, but still he goes sifting through the rubble, trying to find anything — or anyone — that might still be underneath. But he's starting to get sloppy, unable to move larger pieces out of the way and at risk of dropping them on himself. ]

Fuck off. [ Is he muttering at himself, or at you? ] There's still shit to do. Gotta keep going.

ii. yima

[ People are freaking out, and there is still work to be done. Amos ignores it as best he can, thoroughly in work mode, but eventually— ]

Shut the fuck up! [ There is some emotion swirling in him that he can't recognize. Grief? Whatever it is, it's easier to cover up with anger, so he does. He doesn't care about his reputation or standing in Highstorm so much as his ability to be big and loud when it comes to it, so he relies on that.

At least until things quiet down some, and so does he. The weird feeling fights for dominance over anger. He hates them both, so he tries to push them both down instead, embrace the cool nothingness of Zenith. ] You think she's gone? Seriously? Yima's been here before any of us. You really think that would take her out?

[ Whatever the fuck that was... either way. Amos scowls, shakes his head. ]

This changes nothing. We clean up, lick our wounds, and get right back at it. So when Yima comes back we'll have something to show her for her new world.

[ And these aren't empty words — he believes everything he's saying. ]


iii. wildcard

[ or whatever. plotting comment, cadiai @ discord + plurk. amos is easily reachable in highstorm but likely unavailable in springstar; contact me first if you have an idea for the latter. ]

cyrus, gen —

[baltimores]

[ A year ago, he was asked to set up a secret cornerstone in Springstar. Not a big deal; just the latest in a line of Zenites to be ordered with and fulfil that particular task. You got it, boss, and towards the south of the Akadimaïkós District, it had been set up.

Today, given another mission, he uses it. You got it, though boss isn't the right word here.

Amos slips into Springstar as chaos begins to take over its streets, immediately casting Pass Without Trace and disappearing within its shadows. He pays no mind to the city's growing cacophony, because he is only using it, not participating. That's Silco's business — not his.

Thanks to Kiritsubo's work over the past few weeks he only has eyes for the Katoikitikós District, bypassing Heliopolis entirely. Cyrus won't be there. (If he is then he'll double back, but based on what Kiritsubo had told him, he'll be at home.) So Amos stalks through the district as cries begin to grow louder and more frequent, ignoring them all as he winds his way through unfamiliar streets that are now like the back of his hand.

Here, he tells Gen through communion, present location included as he sets up shop on the rooftop directly across from the house he was told. At his side is a sheathed dagger, blade coated in hemlock; would that he could have found a way to slip it into Cyrus' food or drink, but that's less of a guarantee than actually stabbing a man. Now, he adds on, though in contrast to the world around them his words are without urgency, as though he's reminding Gen when happy hour is and nothing more.

Amos pulls out his energy gun, technology that was once beyond him now familiar after a year with it. He checks the charge; full. He checks the sight; accurate. He aims the gun at the front door, finger on the trigger, and waits for something to happen.

How fortuitous it would be for him to get it done here and now, but he isn't taking any chances.

The door opens, and shadows from his spell bleeding off of him, Amos pulls the trigger. ]

chrono shindou | meridian | savant | ota!!

[clockpunk]

I; there's no escape, i'm covered in wounds

[ it was war, true war, not the quiet approaches and underhanded tactics that chrono was used to combating. battles in open areas, sorcery both local and from otherworldy powers being thrown around - he should have just bunkered down somewhere safe. quiet, well-guarded places were hard to find, but surely there would have been one available if he'd looked.

but he didn't, of course. with innocents being attacked and other shardbearers called to action, there was no way he could just hide and wait it out.

with only a few passive magicks at his disposal, chrono was dedicating himself to being a stealth cleric of sorts - darting in and out of quieter areas, post-scuffle survivors drawing his attention with strained calls for help. his limited healing via the cure wounds spell he'd had no time to practice or develop could stitch up cuts and bruises enough to have some civilians hobble to hopeful safety, and his shield, while shaky and infrequently cast, had come in clutch more than once.

this would seem very cool to him if it wasn't for, y'know, all the horrors. ]

a;
[ so you might spot him helping an injured local, perhaps deflecting an attack from a kowloon addict or a stray highstorm soldier. if you're an ally, please lend some help he is not actually able to fight well at all. if you're an enemy... well, he is not actually able to fight well at all, so...!! ]

Hey, we gotta go, let's get moving--!!

[ he ushers people along as best he can, tugging along those who might be paralyzed by shock. ]

b;
[ or you might catch him at a resting place, drinking deeply from any source of water he can find. the periods of rest are short, crowds moving to avoid discovery. chrono himself is scuffed, a wound on his arm bleeding slowly down to his shard where the reds mingle together. why not cure his own wounds? he's fine. everything's fine with him.

depending on how late it is, his ears may also have dried blood encrusted on the lobes, trailing down his neck. he winces as he tries to rub it off in flecks. ]

What the hell. Ow.

II; but i take your hand, as you stand there

[ the nightmare had shaken chrono deeply, overwriting his usual bad dreams with a deep-seated unease that felt all too real. hearing his shard clatter to the ground upon waking had stricken him to the core, frantically inspecting the bare back of his right had for a six-pointed mark he swears he can see one moment but is met with bare skin the next.

his shard settles back into its place as usual, the pattern falsely refracted in it less comforting than ever. ]

a;
[ the recovery effort was less recovery and more effort. chrono helped where he could, but the shadows snatching souls away had deterred many people from venturing outside, even those in need of help. the parts of the city still functioning felt muddled and warped. his head pounded constantly. ibuprofen was a luxury he wished he had right now. ]

S'cuse me, do you know where the cafe is? Could've sworn it was right here.

b;
[ and then, there's tricks playing in front of his eyes.

it's voices first - "chrono, where did you go? we were so-" | "did we do it? where are we? can-". flashes of blond and green moving around corners, hiding behind others. he approaches tokoha's back, only to find her gone, voice still calling his name. once, it's chaos breaker in his stolen body, waving at him the same way he'd done before. then, it's kazuma. clear as day, right in front of him, and not speaking a word. chrono swallows, approaches, and kazuma's still there with his eyes closed, amused smile on his face as if he's about to look up and laugh, ask "glad to see me?".

kazuma does look up. his eyes are a bright, acid yellow. ]

N-No.

[ chrono reels back, bumping into someone (maybe you?). the vision of kazuma gyze is gone, but chrono has tears pricking at his eyes. with a weak sound, he moves frantically to find somewhere to sit down and let the panic overtake him for a moment. ]

III; i won't give up on anything

[ over communion, chrono reaches out. there's a sense - or to those with strong cognition, a very vivid experience - of a steam-filled factory of towering gold gears, heavy air oppressive to the mental senses. chrono's there, somewhere, but his voice can be heard regardless. ]

I want to learn how to use a weapon. A staff, or a polearm. Please.

Thanks.

IV; i'll be who i want to be (wildcard)

[ tweak a prompt, start a new one, ask for a starter, i am happy to run with anything! plotting post is here and you can hit me up on plurk at yagyuu or the discord!! ]

ii-b

[umurice]

[He lost Rinne again. He's sure he saw him this time, that he wasn't hallucinating, but perhaps he was wrong again. Just like that time in Alenroux, and now here. He was... not doing so hot, every time he thinks he sees his brother. His father, perhaps, but that was so fleeting it was his definitely his imagination.

So he had sat aside to get his bearings, the weariness from the events he's experienced making him feel older than he is, and he needed to recharge before he tries again. To help others, to look for his brother, to-- to make the decision he needs.

It takes him by surprise when he senses a familiar presence, looking up and seeing the haunted look on Chrono's face. It's alarming, and he momentarily forgets about his own worries to come to him, catch him if he falls.]

Chrono!

Yuri Leclerc | Meridian | Harbinger

[wolfish]

I. Playing Defensive
[ Though few in this world know it, Yuri's strengths lie more in defending than attacking. It might even come across as stranger, to those not of his world. To those not of his timeline. But it isn't the only way in which he might surprise others.

When the attacks begin and civilians find themselves in the crosshairs, that's where Yuri draws his line. That's where he gets ruthless, darting out from shadows to cut down would-be assailants before they can lay their hands on fleeing non-combatants. He's uncannily swift, and if a Zenite so much as appears to be chasing down an unarmed individual, they may abruptly find themselves on the pavement with a sword pointed at their throat.

Was that a wind spell, just now? ]

Fancy meeting you here, friend.

[ There's a sharpness about that last word, matching both his blade and his eyes. If it's another Meridian, however, he may have made a blunder amidst the chaos. ]

II. Wolf Pack
[ It's just one of many terrible scenes playing out in Springstar's sundrenched streets during the attack. Yuri happens upon a mother trying to fend off a bestial attacker with the largest knife she's got, eyes wild and frantic as she does her best to press her children behind her as they cry and clutch at her skirts.

On the ground, blood pooling around him on the cobblestone, lies the figure of a man. ]

Hey— [ Yuri calls, just as the wolflike figure had started toward the woman. ] I think you'd better worry about me first.

[ The creature pivots with a snarl, allowing the woman to first back away, then flee with her children. It's all well and good, until more wolfish individuals emerge from somewhere behind Yuri, leaving him surrounded. Of all the goddess-forsaken luck... ]

Well damn, I must be popular.


III. The Departed
[ In the aftermath of the attack on Springstar, Yuri does show up at the church to pay his respects. He may not have agreed with Cyrus or particularly known the man, but he'd say he didn't deserve the hand that had been dealt to him. Didn't deserve to be cut down for leading his people — for trying to play fair when evidently, his enemy held no such standards.

In that one way, he's reminded of his king. The man would give every chance in the world, even if he were wounded for it. Cyrus may just have given one too many chances.

Others may not share Yuri's faith, and he doesn't mind it. He stands there with his hands clasped, eyes closed, and prays all the same. Both for the man whose life was cut short and for all those who were slain for nothing better than a distraction. ]

IV. Wildcard
[ ooc: Want to do something else entirely? Feel free to throw it my way. ]

Closed Prompts

[wolfish]

Subaru | Unharmonized | Advocate

[ex_fend346]

I. Springstar's Little Helper
[ Staying in Yima's manor, it was impossible not to hear whispers of an upcoming attack. It was harder still to ignore the flurry of activity that Yima's call to arms inevitably prompted, which left Subaru with a mounting sense of unease. On the appointed day, he marches out with the rest of the shard-bearers from Highstorm, but perhaps for very different reasons.

Subaru has learned his lesson from his first days in Kenos. He's invested in some protective wear, with the little allowance he's gotten from Yimommy. So he's easily found darting through the streets, for once absent the outermost layer of his clothing, making his fighting gloves and shin guards stand out in stark relief with what still looks like a Victorian noble's idea of fashion.

Upon spotting one of the various monsters attacking citizenry in Springstar — whatever definition of monster they meet — Subaru doesn't hesitate to rush in. He places himself between attacker and intended victim, eyes narrowed up at the former.

Because, quite frankly, he's quite small. ]

Please refrain from attacking unarmed people.

[ Yes, he's...he's like this. ]

II. Pot, Kettle
[ Subaru's campaign to protect the innocent doesn't end anytime soon. While he's better prepared to deal with the present limitations of his body now, it doesn't come without cost. At a certain point, he slumps against a wall and squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to regather himself. The trouble is, the crimson staining his torn clothing suggests that isn't liable to happen.

And before he even opens his eyes, he can tell that he's attracted a certain kind of attention as a result. ]

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

[ He sighs, green eyes opening to find that, indeed, it's a rather large figure with prominent fangs approaching him. With effort, he pushes himself away from the wall. There too, he's left his blood. Later — later, he'd best clean that up. For now... ]

...It's not as though I could expect you to know any better.

III. Homeless in Highstorm
[ Well now. Subaru has had quite an eventful time in this place so far. As he stands there looking at the ruin of the manor, he supposes his one good bit of fortune is that he had nothing worth missing in his room. He hasn't harmonized, and recent events have left him even more deeply conflicted than he already was. Not only that, but the very citizenry he'd tried to help evidently don't trust the unharmonized anymore.

When the remaining housing is so limited, Subaru doesn't feel right about taking up the space, even if he has nowhere to go. So he drifts, occasionally parking himself in one business or another, wherever he finds that the people are tolerant of his presence. Perhaps his polite, unassuming demeanor wins him points, though he's often advised by concerned business owners that he really should harmonize for his own good...

If only he knew what to do, when he doesn't believe either side can succeed.

Whether in Highstorm or Springstar, one might occasion to find Subaru in quiet shops or cafes, having dozed off where he sits. It's not the intention — it's never the intention — but at times he just grows so weary that it can't be helped. He doesn't mean to impose though, really. ]

IV. Wildcard
[ ooc: Want to do something different? Go ahead and throw it at me. And if you have a moment, please fill out this survey, if you'd like Subaru to eventually be able to notice certain things about your character. Even if they're entirely normal, it's a great reference point for him. ]

ii

[escardos]

[ from the distance, flat recognizes subaru’s injured form… and the large monster that is encroaching upon him. it’s hard not to notice, considering the thing’s large size and the sheer amount of bloodlust emanating from it.

underneath his illusion to make himself invisible, the mage slowly approaches subaru from the other side… carefully… inconspicuously… yes he might have tripped over a rock but don’t worry about it…

until he undoes the magecraft by reaching out to grab subaru by the wrist. ]

Sorry, do you think you can still run? I think we’re gonna have to, soon. [ because the monster has now realized that it can have a 2-for-1 meal with the two of them. ] I can help you hold him back for a bit, though!

Rin Tohsaka | Zenith (T2) | Harbinger

[erbe]

[Ever since the loss of the Harbinger Oracle, Rin doesn't leave Highstorm much these days. Over time she has gathered the resources to avoid shopping in Springstar, and it's not as if she gets invited to that side much anyway. Retreating back into the shadows of Highstorm's evernight simply feels natural for a mage. And yet she finds herself sullen and lonely any time she thinks of being the only one who doesn't want to see that world restored.

As such the following prompts are both within Highstorm, and one can't expect her to leave the island unless called upon. This also means not getting involved in the murder plot, but instead sticking around Highstorm in hopes of fending off any counterattacks.]

✧ 1. Aftermath

[Unfortunately the type of counterattack that Meridian launched wasn't one she could protect the city from. As such Tohsaka is put in a more reactionary position. Scrambling to the scene of the destruction to help in any way she can. With her Discord higher because of the damage taken to Sakura's shard earlier in the month, her powers are a little unstable from time to time. So, while it is unusual for her, Rin switches between utilizing her regular powers and her Harmonized abilities (amplified by the Crest that Aetos had carved into her). Tohsaka can be found:

a. Rescue efforts
Removing rubble and debris to save citizens who may have been trapped by the blast and to look for Yima. She'll spend ours scouring the mountain of dust, dirt, and death even if it means faltering from seeing some of the more mangled bodies. She may even faint a little or throw up.

b. Time & Healing
After hours of search Rin will either be unable to keep up her stamina or physically dragged out of search efforts by someone else. Following this she'll settle with helping heal the wounded and comfort the scared. While Rin isn't very good at the latter, her status as a tier 2 loyalist makes some NPCs feel as if they're in good hands despite her stilted bedside manner.

Perhaps she saves your character from the mess, heals them from some grievous wound, or maybe they're working together in the effort of trying to pick up the pieces. Either way, Rin is going to be quite noticeably exhausted. Worn thin but forging on despite it all.]

✧ 2. Generosity

[In the coming days Rin is spending half her time with restoration efforts and half her time meeting those who lost their homes at Yima's manner at her storefront. She doesn't advertise her charitable actions, but she does discreetly make sure that those who are suffering at least have hygiene products or healing salves for their trouble. And while she emphasizes that those in need shouldn't talk about it unless they're referring someone else over, there still ends up being talk in hushed and whispered tones. Her shop will be looking emptier these days, and sometimes she'll bring someone back into her solarium and they'll leave with a bundle of dried lavender or a small cloth with a little produce she has managed to grow with some magic lights.

a. Frost Burn
In the coming days one may find Rin attempting to cover up the many windows of her shop. The back of her hand already bleached white, some of her clothes impacted with splotches of mismatched color, and the like... she's taking measures to safeguard the storefront which also happens to be the lead-in to her home. Because she's already been touched by the light, sometimes one my find Rin simply lying on her cold store floor and looking listlessly up at the ceiling. Inwardly tired and outwardly motionless. As if the world doesn't even need to expend any effort to just crush her.

b. Lost in Place
Exhaustion combined with Discord. That's what it has to be. Losing her way time and time again... normally it wouldn't be an issue. With her home and her shop she really doesn't have an excuse to leave unless it's a trip to the Antiques Market However with recent events (too tired to make more product, giving away free stuff to those in need) means that... well, she needs a second job. Yeah, if she wants to afford to keep making soaps and salves and lotions she'll need money to buy the ingredients she cannot make herself. Over time she'll be trying and failing (and getting lost) at plenty of part-time jobs.

Feel free to have your character walk over her at her shop, catch her lost in the middle of Highstorm looking like she's about to cry, or anything else. If you're unsure PM me and we can wildcard it a little or figure something specific out.]

[FYI: Despite the Discord alleviation from Florence, Rin has accumulated a good chunk of it due to a bit of unrelated (Sakura's shard) stress. As such one will be able to notice a few features: black sclera contrasting with her bright blue eyes, her skin in some places will have patches of opalescent scales that - when they flake away - reveal empty shadow or the red veins of something hauntingly familiar. Oh... is her sweater not filling out at the upper arm in the same way on each side? Hm. Maybe it's a trick. It doesn't always look like that...

Rin's Discord will fluctuate and vary. She has plenty of cross-aspect familiarity with people to help lower the symptoms, but she's also close to opposing-aspect people who heighten her accrual. Not only that, but the crest Aetos had inscribed into her body holds onto Discord and cannot be expelled normally.]

2a

[fursuit]

[ Tezcatlipoca is more aimless than most at this time, but to be fair, he’d truly wandered right into the shit here. Last time he’d showed up, everything was coming up roses, at least so far as he, the god of conflict, personally saw it. Now? Now, this is more how he likes it.

…But it does leave him with some problems. Notably, now he doesn’t have a place to hang with Yima’s manor in shambles, and as much as he loves Kowloon already, there’s only so long he can be there, he’s found. So, fine, he figures. Time to get to know the local color.

So, he drifts around Highstorm enough that he finds himself outside of a shop that’s pretty, sure, but at a glance doesn’t stand out too much from any others. But to Tezcatlipoca… ]

Huh. Ain’t that interesting.

[ He can feel the difference as clear as day now that he has his abilities back. There’s magic in the shop, but it’s familiar. He can feel the subtleties in magic as a god that oversees it, and though it’s duller while he’s in this odd form that was created to break the rules of his world, it’s still clear. It’s from his. So, he wanders in and immediately looks around to take in the sights with interest, but eventually… His eyes land on a girl. Just laying on the floor. ]

Uh. [ UH??? ] You good?

Demeisen | Zenith | Stargazer

[picketship]

I. YOU NAUGHTY MONSTERS — fighting marauders & rescuing noncombatants

[Technically, Demeisen is not supposed to be here. In a circumstance where any Zenite in Springstar could be considered hostile by default, it would make sense for any who aren’t participating in Yima’s assault operation to remain in Highstorm and cool their heels. But that has never been his style.

Besides, civilians are in danger. While he may have no interest in involving himself in the Meridian–Zenith war, Demeisen isn’t quite so married to avoiding interference that he’ll look the other way while non-combatants get maimed, killed, eaten, or whatever else.

So he finds himself in Springstar. He’s picked up a large, heavy-bladed knife somewhere along the way, and though his person has somehow managed to remain pristine, the blade itself is stained with blood. He’s no babysitter, and in the midst of war, he’s not inclined to take prisoners.

He can be found hunting down those he finds preying on noncombatants. Shard-bearer or local-born, Zenith or Meridian, anyone turning their weapons against the unarmed becomes his prey in turn. For most, who lack the avatar’s frightening speed and strength, this means being cut down without mercy.]

a. [He might provide a rescue for those looking to escape the conflict, appearing in a blur of speed to snap limbs and sever arteries of attackers. His cheerful smile tries and fails to be reassuring.]

Need a hand?

b. [Or, if a marauding Zenite hasn’t yet struck a blow against any of the civilians in their sights, he’ll extend the courtesy of a friendly warning as he steps forward to intercept.]

I’d rethink that, if you want to stay all in one piece.

II. YOU CALL THIS CLEAN? — rubble rescues & snooping in the manor

[Ultimately, the destruction of Yima’s manor doesn’t inconvenience Demeisen much. He hadn’t been using his room there for anything other than a fledgling weapons collection, and for him the idea of possessions doesn’t carry much weight. But he does still show up to sift through the rubble—not because he wants to find his stuff, but because he intends to snoop around.]

a. [He helps out a little too, of course. Delves into the ruins to rescue injured people, or points out the location of those still trapped to those who lack sensors that can penetrate layers of rubble. If you’ve been stuck somewhere, either before the blast or while delving in after, you might hear him as he conducts his search, coming steadily toward you.]

Hello? Anybody alive over there?

b. [But he’s more than capable of multitasking, and while he does keep his eyes out for the ailing as he explores, he makes his way steadily to areas of the manor typically too well-staffed for him to snoop through effectively. If you happen to come upon him as he searches, well… he’s just being helpful, of course! Looking for important things to retrieve, and all that.]

III. CONTENTS MAY DIFFER

[Wildcard me! You can find Demeisen’s plotting comment here, or hit me up at Sporelett or on Discord.]

IIb

[punkisntdead]

[Once Chloe’s gotten a little meltdown off of her chest after barely making it out of the manor in the first place, it’s not hard to spot her periodically combing through the ruins with others here and there. She likewise didn’t really have much in the way of possessions here yet, and the one thing she’d even cared about—Max’s Shard—had been safely with her when everything went to hell, but something’s compelling her to stop and help in between the urges to freak out about how fucked up this all is now and then.

(lbr, it’s the guilt—you leave everything behind in a pile of rubble that’s largely your fault for happening one time, and it leaves you with some hang ups that a ruined building easily dredges up, who would have guessed!)

She’s just kind of letting her feet unsteadily take her where ever she can even get in all of this mess, and when she sees someone else dig around this particular part of the wreckage, she figures she must be on the right track.]

Man, I don’t even remember what was over in this part of the place.

[Perks of having been here barely a week before the whole place went down. She steps over what had once been a perfectly fancy chair and was now a perfect pile of splintered wood and upholstery, glancing around the area with a tight expression before her eyes settle on him.]

drizzt do'urden ( zenith, advocate )

[twohand]

— NIGHT IS THE MOTHER OF THOUGHT.

[ Link is gone. Link is gone, Link is gone, Link could be dead or captured or lost and it will be his fault. They knew the risks of the Beyond, they considered the risks of the Meridian forces in the far, far depths; two fresh-faced Zenites venturing into uncharted, deadly terrain meant that they were in too deep before they knew what hit them. He separates to encircle the area, silent and skilled — a figure used to crouching in the darkness, scouting ahead and not making rash decisions.

He makes one now. Guenhwyvar at his side, he sprints in the direction that he'd last seen Link. Please, be okay. Please, run. Do not fight back, focus on escaping. It matters — you matter more — he thinks, only to be broadsided with the last trickles of Link's warning. His attempt to be good, to be helpful, to forewarn others of what is coming. Gods above, there really is a weapon. A danger, a thing aimed at Highstorm and who knew what would befall them, if anything were to happen to Zenith. ( It would be bad. Any resounding damage to them, he feels, will rob everyone of their security and safety. Nobody can stand against Oblivion, that is obvious; Zenith needs to exist, and Zenith needs to change. But, not like this. Not under the sights of some weapon. )

Link! Link, say something! He calls aloud and in Communion, reaching for the silent mind —

And then, the Legionnaires descend upon him. Forcing him to withdraw Guen lest she be injured, for while he has fought countless ( hundreds, hundreds ) of enemies before, this is beyond him. He doesn't want to go down here, not with his companion unaccounted for. Desperation has him driving into the soldiers, perhaps against a Meridian Shard-Bearer or two, blades whirling and magic leaping, searching and calling for Link — until a well-aimed blow sends him reeling. A second drops him into another oblivion entirely.

A. SPRINGSTAR. He awakens in Springstar, escaping imprisonment only by the claim of another.

( Fane, who steps in to bring him under his "watch". Whom he will forever be grateful to. )

It allows him to lunge into battle again, bruises darkening blue-violet against his dark skin from where the Legionnaire had roughened him on the way back to Springstar, but eyes aflame with the injustice. He dives, darting like a dark bird with silver beak through shambling drug addicts, slicing the tongues and jaws from vampires who dared venture into the light of day. He is merciless in his slaughter of creatures that aim to hurt the innocents of Springstar, leaving their bodies in pieces. His spellwork allows him to move, faster and faster, until he comes across any other Shard-Bearers.

Zenites, he attempts to pin down with a frightening intensity, calling out: ] What is happening here? What are you doing!?

[ Meris, he halts before, and speaks up in earnest. ]

I didn't know, [ ignorance can be a sin, but right now, it is his only defense. ] I promise, I didn't know this was going to happen. I'm going to stop it, change it!

[ Zenith cannot be this.

B. HIGHSTORM. Which is why, when he finally, finally comes back to Highstorm, it is broken and furious and swiping tears from his bright eyes. The panther limping at his side leans into him, the only body which he wants to lean on right now. Leaking from him like a sieve is mistrust, revulsion in his own Faction. Even standing in the wreckage of the Manor, sifting through it to help find belongings and others, he spares only the most hollow, recriminating of glances to his so-called allies.

Most of what he has to say, he directs at the wreckage itself. At the woman supposedly buried and burning below it. ]

— I hope you're gone. This Faction will be better without you helming it.

[ Lain at his side, the battered and dirtied green cloak he wears has been lain over a body. Someone from the Manor, that he didn't know, didn't ever meet, but they'd died all the same. ]

If she ever shows her face again, I will finish her myself. This wasn't right, or righteous, or even good. I don't want to be part of a Zenith that does things this way now and figures they'll be better later.

— OOC.

[ Drizzt's plotting comment is here, and I'll have some closed starters for specific plans below!

FANE | we h*ld h*nds once and now we're dating /j(?)

[twohand]

[ Drizzt bleeds, red as any other mortal in his world. His face marred by a few well-placed punches and arms bound behind his back, as the Legionnaire march him into the depths of Springstar. Being passed through a Cornerstone like an errant package, from guards to more guards would be undignified to some, but Drizzt has never cared for things like dignity unless granting a proper death, or a burial. He's half-feral with grief, eyes rolling wild and voice hoarse as he tries to parlay with the Legionnaire grasping him below the armpits.

It's not hard to carry him, he's a small elf, and somewhere along the lines the guards had gotten tired of trying to fight him digging his heels in. Fey strength and Harmonized Shard-Bearer make for a difficult march, and Drizzt has been fighting for miles and miles. Fighting to get free, to not hurt anyone, to learn of his companion's fate — to figure out what is happening to fill him with such dread that he is ill with it. He can help no one if he allows them to imprison him, to judge him, to get him somewhere he'll never be found. ]

Please, you have to listen! My friend, Link — something happened to him, I have to make sure he's alive!

[ He thrashes, and part of him surges to the surface, hollow and haunted and desperate to be free — the Hunter preparing to strike with tooth and nail, even if the chains placed around his wrists and throat have nullified his Harmonized abilities. ]

You can't use that thing on Highstorm, you can't escalate things like this!

[ How wrong he is, in the end, to think that Meridian will escalate things. ]

Howl 🔥 Zenith, Iconoclast

[cyfaredd]

[ From his first day here, Howl had sworn up and down that he was not going to get involved in the conflict happening in this world. He spent his days outside the manor, looking for work, checking out potential new places to live, and getting distracted along the way by everything Highstorm has to offer. But even someone as checked-out as Howl couldn't avoid the rumors rising among the people who live and work in the Manor, nor the increased activity and tension in the air.

They're mobilizing for an attack. It is precisely the sort of thing that Howl had no interest in participating in, and at the same time, precisely the sort of thing that he can't actually ignore, as much as he tells himself to. Yima and her followers are serious about this. People are going to die. And his thoughts keep wandering to the handful of Meris that he met when he first arrived — especially the younger ones. That girl, Gray, who spoke to him in such strange Welsh, was still just a child. Are they really going to go that far?

It's when he steps out early on the day of the invasion to watch Yima open her arms wide and bathe them all in pride an encouragement that he realizes, yes. They're going to go that far.

A familiar crackling voice enters his mind — not through Communion, but through the mind-fused connection that he already shared with this particular person before stepping foot in Kenos. Are you really going to leave me here at a time like this? it asks.

If Sophie were here, she'd tell you to stop complaining, Howl answers back as he turns and starts to swiftly make his way out of the Manor courtyard.

Well, she's not, the voice grumbles back. They're both thinking the same thing: circumstances are serious indeed when Howl is the one doing the scolding. ]

( I. are WE the baddies?? )

[ Finally deciding to do something is one thing. Actually figuring out what to do is another.

Deharmonizing is out of the question. Howl needs his powers if he's going to make any sort of difference. But joining the other Zenites in the first wave into Springstar is not an option, either. Nobody that he wants to help will believe that he's there to work against his own faction — and if any Zenite witnesses him doing so, the cat will be out of the bag before he's had a chance to help anyone.

So he waits until after the initial morning assault, using one of the Cornerstones when there's no other Zenites around to watch. Once he finds himself in Springstar, he takes to the air, his body transforming into a cloud of gray-blue mist that rises like smoke from a chimney. From here, he can catch up on what's going on... and witness for himself what Yima's forces are doing to combatants and innocent civilians alike.

It's easy to ( a ) intervene in the encounters between non-Bearer forces. Duels are easily influenced in Springstar's favor with a bit of magic, cast from where Howl watches from the air or on the sidelines. Perhaps the sword of a Yima loyalist shatters against their opponent's shield in a one-in-a-million sort of way, or maybe a cobblestone comes loose under their foot as they're dashing to inflict a killing blow... but it sure seems like the Zenith forces are having some oddly bad luck within this particular block of the city. Of course, characters who can sense magic being used around them will see through the ruse quickly — as will anyone else who Howl wrongly assumes to be a non-Bearer aligned with Yima...

Of course, he isn't just trying to frustrate the efforts of the invaders. Of much higher priority is ( b ) protecting anyone and everyone in the midst of a life-threatening situation, whether they be Zenite or Meri, Shard-bearer or normie. When he hears the scream of someone being attacked by a Shimmer-drunk addict, he rushes to swoop them to safely. When he sees smoke rising from a burning building on the horizon, he rushes to check it for anyone who might be trapped inside. Although he does his best to be covert during all of this, he can keep himself hidden for only so long — especially when he starts creating portals in the nearest door or window to help him more quickly shepherd people to safety. Hey, what's that guy over there doing, drawing shapes in chalk on the ground and mumbling incoherently to himself while accompanied by some scared and vulnerable-looking citizens? It looks suspicious, regardless of which side you're on. ]

( II. that's my emotional support fire demon )

[ Howl stays in Springstar even after the news of Cyrus' assassination reaches him. It's the strike on the Manor a few hours later that has him fleeing the city in a panic, emerging from the opposite Cornerstone in a fearful frenzy. Compared to the carefully curated version of himself that left Highstorm a day earlier, this Wizard Howl is not so glamorous: his blonde hair looks a little duller and browner than it used to, the faint pattern of stubble has appeared along his jawline, and his clothing is peppered with tears, chalk dust and burn marks.

And that smarmy, self-important air about him is completely gone.

If he was trying to be subtle about his use of magic before, he definitely isn't now. He leaps into the air and sails towards the wreckage of the Manor, his long black sleeves trailing behind him like windsocks. Ignoring the alarmed looks he's getting from the workers and responders trying to clear away the rubble, he lands, plants his feet, raises one hand... and blasts a plume of fire into the wreckage. ]

Calcifer! Where are you? [ Exposed beams of wood are quickly being ignited by Howl's magic. Whoopsie! What the hell is he doing!! 🙃 Unsatisfied with whatever it is that this is supposed to be accomplishing, he stomps further inside the ruined building and continues to douse it in enough fire to make a flamethrower blush. ] Answer me, you old fool! Where are you?!

( III. communion: walking backwards into hell (locked to meridian))

[ Howl's message comes a few days after the attack on Yima's manor. The fighting has subsided, immediate emergency aid has been dispatched, and everyone is beginning to grapple with what's happened.

Which means it's finally time to make do on what he said in response to Silco's message. There is no easy way to ask this, especially not after what's happened, but he has no choice but to ask and hope someone is willing to assist. ]

I want to leave the Zenith. Clearly, I made a mistake when I settled for this side.

...But I need help doing so. Suffice to say it isn't exactly safe to be Unharmonized at the moment. And I have an additional problem when it comes to actually moving to Springstar. To put it simply, I have some very delicate luggage that I would feel far more comfortable moving with assistance.

If you feel that you cannot trust a Zenite right now, however knew he may be, then I understand. But I pray that at least one of you may have enough courage left to take me at my word.

( wildcard! )

(( or, as always, hit me up with a special riff on one of the prompts above, or even your own idea! you can find me at lazdo, oddlazdo on Discord, or at Howl's plotting comment here! ))

iii.

[escardos]

[ hey, remember what you said about friends being quick to ask for favors? ]

I've only been here for a while, but I know some people that would probably help. Do you need someone to vouch for you?

rudbeckia de borgia • meridian • stargazer

[appeale]

[ all closed prompts! ruby is keeping a distance from (gestures) all of that. if you want to make any other plans, hmu @ the ooc post!! ]

▶ THE BEYOND: CLAUDE | MATT | AMOS

[appeale]

[ far from the sanctuary that Rudbeckia has come to regard as home, Highstorm and Springstar alike are reeling in the aftermath of catastrophe, and none of it has anything to do with her. she isn't a good person, she knows that; she is an awful, wretched witch. but what would be the point in trying – or pretending – to care about people who don't have a shred of compassion for her? it's not her responsibility to put her own life on the line for anyone else. they'll be saved and pulled from the rubble by the heroes, the protagonists displaced from their own stories, and she will survive by herself, as she always has.

not entirely by herself, though. not anymore. Set, she can only worry for, and cling to a fragile thread of hope that he will return to her whole when the fallout settles. but she can help her friends, the monsters she has gathered to her, just as she brought them here in the first place. there's no guarantee of their continued safety in the Beyond, now that the Zenites will have reason to turn their hostilities on Set's temple. until the worst passes, their best option is to leave.

which is easier said than done. ]

█ CLAUDE (feat. popo + bunny)

... can't just walk through Highstorm with it, Popo. Even in disguise, everyone is too on edge right now.

[ whatever has led him out to the Beyond, whether he is making the journey out to Set's temple or returning from it, Claude cannot mistake the familiar sound of Rudbeckia's voice, nor the anxious prickling of her mind nearby. she seems to be in the midst of conversation with someone, though the chatter is entirely one-sided. leaf litter crunches underfoot as she paces with nervous energy. ]

I can hide anyone smaller, and Fiore could fly us to— no, but I'm worried some psycho bastard would try to shoot us down. If we— [ hearing a person approaching, Ruby whirls on her heel with a look of stark terror, but: ] ... Oh. Claude.

[ once the reflexive moment of fear passes, Rudbeckia's expression turns—blank, almost? there's no sense of hostility in her demeanour, nor in their shared Stargazer connection, but nor does she put any "effort" into her presentation. it isn't honesty; it lacks trust, or openness. she has simply decided, since their last conversation, that Claude is someone not worth appealing to.

he knows her, better than most just for the inextricable tangle of their Aspect, and yet he didn't so much as speak to defend her when she was pushed to the edge by their fellow Meri. although she doesn't resent him for that one action, to Ruby, it's a clear line drawn. he has been marked as not safe. ]

If you're looking for someone, I don't know where they are. I'm trying not to get involved in anything...

[ behind Ruby, a creature stares at Claude from over her head, and another peers around her legs. ]

█ MATT (feat. ruru)

[ when Matt's quick Communion goes out to those he knows belong to Meridian, Rudbeckia gives it a cursory response, unconvinced that his outreach holds sincerity beyond the obligations of him being a nice person – yes, she's alright. yes, she's safe. she was in the Beyond, away from all of it, although she supposes she will have to move soon. Zenites are surely going to begin coming for Set's temple now, and she has friends that will need a new home.

that's all she expects. some obligatory chatter to put him at ease, to assuage his worries so that he can focus on other matters.

by the plain shock on her face, she definitely wasn't expecting to see him in the Beyond. ]

Um. Signore? ... Matt? [ the large winged cat at her side rumbles unhappily, but Ruby places a hand on its nose – a gesture of comfort, not discipline. there's a little wariness in how she regards Matt, though it's confusion most of all. ] What are you doing out here?

█ AMOS (feat. popo)

[ this is not an encounter she had wanted to have. she had hoped to be elsewhere, by the time people like Amos started intruding on her home. while there has been time for some sanity to return for most of those affected by the damage, that doesn't mean anything for those who lacked sanity in the first place; and despite the accord that she had reached with Amos, Ruby has no confidence that it would hold up where Yima is involved. if he's come here looking for blood – Meridian blood – her own may be fair game.

and yet—when the monster that carries her on her back bares its sharp teeth at Amos, Rudbeckia lays her hand atop its head. ]

It's okay, Popo. Signor Amos isn't here to hurt us. [ she looks Amos in the eye, her blank stare a wordless challenge to him. ] Is he?

[ the last time they met face-to-face was the carnival, that knock-off Halloween disaster. she remembers the house twisted by his nightmares, the shape of him cowering before her; remembers her— no, Rudbeckia's incandescent fury at the sight. how she had put into words the hurt and anger that would never have been able to form properly on this atrophied tongue. if he leaves her cowering before him again now, maybe the real Ruby's laughter will bubble up from inside her. ]