beleos: (Default)
beleos ([personal profile] beleos) wrote in [community profile] kenoslogs2024-02-07 02:45 pm

THE SOOT OF IGNORANCE: RISING ACTION


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
escardos: (pic#16854339)

flat escardos | meridian | savant

[personal profile] escardos 2024-02-11 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
springstar
    1. magic college did not prepare him for this
    [ when the fighting breaks out, flat is hardly prepared for the scale of it. while he understands that, technically, this is hardly his issue and half of the feelings that he's feeling aren't even his own, his values as a member of the el melloi classroom are what truly urge him to go out and help.

    fighting, on the other hand, is another story. he has no mastery over any sort of weapons, and his magecraft leans mostly into support and defense, with his more offense-oriented spells being only strong enough to stun, rather than kill.

    so he focuses on what he's good at and hopes that the good can be enough to cover his weak spots, but that's not always the case. when the roar of a particularly large monster catches him unaware while his attention is focused on healing an injured civilian, flat is frozen with indecision. does he run and sacrifice the person he's healing? or does he defend and possibly get injured or killed in the process? ]

    2. "have you considered not killing people"
    [ that said, there's also the chance that, when he's not looking for civilians to heal or drag to safety, he is looking for shard-bearers. zenites or unharmonized, it doesn't really matter. all that matters at this point is what they're doing.

    because if they seem to be causing havoc, flat will not hesitate from yelling: (at a somewhat safe distance to give him an okay time to make a break for it if necessary--) ]


    Hey, uh...! Any chance that we can negotiate about this whole fighting and killing people thing?!

    [ it's a genuine question. no, he doesn't realize how ridiculous it sounds. ]

    3. and just when you thought it was over! (communion/action)
    [ now that things have come to some sort of uneasy standstill, flat allows himself to recover, although only somewhat. it's difficult for him to get accustomed to the mana of this world, and he feels somewhat like a fresh water fish that's been thrown into the ocean. but that doesn't seem to keep him down, at least in appearance. sure, he's exhausted and losses appear to be heavy, but it's not the end of the world. the world continues, and therefore so must he.

    but in the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of something much like himself. perhaps a little smaller, and definitely lacking that characteristic smile that's almost always present on flat, but...

    perhaps you can catch him there, frozen in place as he gently puts a hand to his cheek. or, perhaps, you can catch him sending a communion to whoever and anyone that is willing to listen to what feels like the void of space itself speaking to you: ]


    Has anyone been seeing people from back home? Or is that just me?

    [ wouldn't be the first time he sees shit that no one else sees, but it'd be nice to get a confirmation if his eyes are going haywire. ]
diegeticmusic: (will i know where to go)

3, communion

[personal profile] diegeticmusic 2024-02-11 10:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[Something a bit startled through the link of communion, but then Grace gets a handle on herself pretty quick. She'd really thought it was just her, too...]

Yes. For a moment.

[She'd been excited when she saw them - Hermes is the god of doorways, they can go anywhere. Of course if any Idol was going to show up here, it would be Hermes.

But just as soon as she'd tried to approach them, just as soon as they'd turned to look at her... they were gone again. And she hasn't found them since.]


Thought I was just seeing things.
escardos: (pic#16851446)

[personal profile] escardos 2024-02-11 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
That's what I thought, too. I mean, with everything that's been happening on both sides, who knows if hallucinations were the next part of it!

[ he sounds fairly confused about it. maybe he had hit his head at some point during these fights? but it doesn't sounds like it... ]

Uhh, who did you see? Was it anyone special?

[ he can't help but be curious. ]

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tresemme: (🍼41)

1!

[personal profile] tresemme 2024-02-12 02:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ luckily for flat, he does not have to choose.

tony has ignored the monsters by and large, treating them as enemy-of-my-enemy and staying out of their way, but this monster has chosen a target tony would rather not see shredded into ribbons.
]

Move!

[ tony dives in a streak of blue from the sky and snatches flat up—but in the process, he abandons the civilian that flat was trying to heal. they haven’t shot off too far yet, but unless prompted, tony is not going to bother to stop. ]
escardos: (pic#14934072)

[personal profile] escardos 2024-02-13 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
Uwah!?

[ first he was going to die and now he's getting taken by a flying monster. flat swivels his head around in wide-eyed shock, but quickly realizes— oh, it's just tony.






wait, it's tony! ]


You're flying!

[ that's so coolWAIT A SECOND— ]

Shouldn't we help the guy we ditched?!
Edited 2024-02-13 04:14 (UTC)

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lockedon: pid 4667155 (052)

3

[personal profile] lockedon 2024-02-13 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ If it ain't this weirdo kid again. But he did promise Gray he would behave. ]

A few. Why?

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gravings: (121.3)

1. at least magic college got him some friends...

[personal profile] gravings 2024-02-14 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Maybe she pinged him beforehand for his location, maybe she just happened to run across him at the right time. Either way, Gray is descending on this monster with extreme prejudice, even more aggressive than if she were only fighting for herself. Her scythe carves a hard crescent into the creature's neck, but the thing is so large that even that isn't enough to down it; it shrieks and thrashes as it swipes wildly at Gray.

She backsteps out of the attack, raises her scythe again. ]


Flat!

[ Either get to safety or help her out. There's still a choice for him to make. ]

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damnpire: (pic#12094813)

1

[personal profile] damnpire 2024-02-16 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Just realized their aspects repel each other and create discord, help me.

Flat does not have very long to fear! The bloodthirsty creature roars, and just as it starts to move, something glimmering erupts out of its chest. The creature looks down... It is the long blade of a sword. The creature looks up at Flat before its face crumples with death.

From behind, it's pushed off the blade and away, and a tall man in all black is left standing behind. He swings the sword downward, tossing off some of the blood. He looks... funny in a seriously ridiculous way. Who walks around in this Western, Blade-looking get-up? With a hat, too, the only visible thing is the palest face imaginable beneath.

The left arm from the elbow down is missing entirely.]


Are either of you injured?

[Wow! His voice is softer than expected, even if it's still deep. He has the tone of a man who is usually feared by looks alone, and he's trying to make himself less horrifying.]

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dreamflowers: (it's a kindness highness)

3. Communion

[personal profile] dreamflowers 2024-02-23 09:51 am (UTC)(link)
[For someone who used to hear voices quite often before, you know... dying. Probably. And coming back to life. Maybe. Jade had a habit of simply ignoring flickers of things that likely weren't real. The familiar glances don't elude her, however.

[After a while, a more tangible sound rings in her head. Jade flinches, as she'd been walking down the street, trying to decide where to sleep that night when she finds her headspace rudely interrupted.]


Blazes. Is everyone in this damned place a Psionicist?!

[Did she say that out loud or think it? Or both? Either way, she's gripping her bangs and wishing the headache to go away.]

Y'know, that kinda talk would usually get you in an asylum somewhere, or worse. Why are you asking?

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epiprocta: (32)

minegishi gen | zenith | exalt

[personal profile] epiprocta 2024-02-12 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ ooc ; Just closed starters here! Please feel free to hit me up here on the plotting post, at inktrashing on Discord, or at [plurk.com profile] databomb if you'd like to plot something out, fingerguns! ]
epiprocta: (54)

for ATSUMU

[personal profile] epiprocta 2024-02-13 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ The air tastes like masonry and debris and burning. There's the constant sounds of chaos coming from too many directions -- screaming and shouting from here, the crumbling noises of something toppling over from there. And as Gen dazedly steps over a pile of what probably used to be a wall at some point ... he absently wonders his boots are, admist this mess. Walking over all this mess barefoot is starting to hurt, and he's pretty sure he's cut himself somewhere.

It's not his fault he's barefoot. He'd long since lost track of the hours after Cyrus' death, sleeping until he got headaches and waking up only long enough to piss and get a drunk of water before going back to sleep. The assault on the manor had caught him almost entirely by surprise, and it was only Ruby's warning that gave him the chance to flee the immediate impact zone, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a tiny handful of his most precious belongings in tow. And even now, after he's sequestered those precious objects away in some safe place, away from this chaos ... he honestly still feels dazed. A little numb. Everything seems to be coming from a little far away.

Probably why it takes him far too long to realize he can hear the sounds of a familiar voice shouting from somewhere nearby. But ... muffled. Like it's half-buried. ]


... Atsumu? [ Too bad Gen's canine ears don't actually make his hearing that much better. They swivel one way, then another, as he casts about at his surroundings, but he still can't immediately triangulate where the sound is coming from. Gen clears his throat before calling out, his own voice sounding oddly flat and foreign in his ears. ] -- louder. I can't find you.

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epiprocta: (41)

for QUETZALCOATL

[personal profile] epiprocta 2024-02-13 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ He probably shouldn't be talking to anyone while he's here.

It's been a few days now that Gen's been laying low in Springstar, alternating between blending in with the citizenry while disguised with Disguise Self or Alter Self, and simply lurking in dark alleyways with his hood pulled up, keeping an eye on his surroundings and an ear on the gossip on the street. He's all too aware of what his reputation in Springstar is now like, and given the importance of the upcoming mission, he knows he should remain as unseen as possible. Silence is generally easy for him; keeping to himself is, too. It should've been a piece of cake keeping to himself until the time Amos gave the signal. Should. But ...

Maybe it's because he stupidly decided to drop by the Viomichanikós District to observe the factory that he'd once felt almost at peace at. Maybe it's because he also foolishly watched a certain house from afar for a while -- wondering what Eustace and Gray and D were up to inside. Maybe it's just that some tiny, idiotic part of still wonders if things could have turned out differently.

When he happens to spot a certain familiar figure lingering nearby during one of his long stints watching the streets from a tucked-away spot in a dark alley, he calls out almost without thinking. ]


Hey. [ Quetzalcoatl gets the psychic equivalent of a little pebble throw at her window. ] To your left. The alleyway.

[ When she looks over, Gen -- dressed all in black as he always is, hood pulled up and pointy ears poking out of some ripped-in holes -- half-assedly raises a hand in greeting. (He probably shouldn't be doing this.) ]

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envoyoftwilight: (for so many years)

Midna | Meridian | Exalt - Closed Starters

[personal profile] envoyoftwilight 2024-02-14 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
[Please contact me if you'd like me to write something for you. You can grab me in the discord, PM Midna's journal, or grab me on plurk.]
envoyoftwilight: (father snores as his wife gets into)

For Raphael

[personal profile] envoyoftwilight 2024-02-14 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
[It has all come down to this, it seems. It feels like it was not so long before that she'd been contacted, given her close relationship to Highstorm, about where she might best be utilised. As if she was less a woman and more a playing piece of a chess board. But when she thinks about the reception Link's been given after his 'defection' to the Zenith, she finds herself in the unique position where she must play both sides to some degree.

To call Midna 'loyal' to anything, it would seem, would be little more than a pretty falsehood.

At a point sometime after Cyrus' assassination, contemplating what to do, how to handle things, imagining the chaos that must be littering the streets of Springstar, she must find, in her own way, a means of driving things forward. It will likely press things for both sides, but it is possible to use that to her personal advantage, something she'll only know in future days, weeks, and months to come.

Who better, she thinks, to call on to provide some clever assistance than someone who tends to enjoy chaos and self-indulgence as much as she does? As such, she gathers up just enough to reach out via communion to one very specific devil. For as much as she wants to seem jovial, there is something off about it.

Or perhaps that is simply the effect discord is having on her. She's not yet sprouted wings and a tail just yet, but with the other little strange accents here and there, she steps from looking like a devil herself. But that will have to come into play later on. There are more important things at hand.]


I doubt you're particularly bored, given what I've heard has trespassed, provided there's any truth in it, but perhaps you might enjoy stirring things up a bit. If so, I have an opportunity for you. With me.

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warmare: (弓)

HAYAME (JINBA) 🏹 ICONOCLAST (MERIDIAN)

[personal profile] warmare 2024-02-16 07:04 am (UTC)(link)
01 ↣ BATTLE FOR MERIDIAN [NEAR HELIOPOLIS] ↣ 様はない出来栄え

[Hayame is already in Springstar when the chaos begins, in the middle of her daily training sessions with the Legionary's archers. No soldier under her instruction was allowed to be anything but the best they were capable of (and she had a reputation for running off those whose best did not meet her exacting standards), and so within minutes she has them deployed to their units. Those whose battalions were stationed farther afield she mobilized herself, the swiftest-footed amongst them was sent to ask for answers from General Zaman... Then Hayame gallops from Heliopolis into the city, into the thick of the chaos and the violence.

There is no end to the surge of enemies. The drug-addled Kowloon citizens barely feel pain and stumble forward relentlessly no matter the injuries. The magical beings loosed from Ryad are possessed of powers and abilities sometimes beyond what should be expected from their humanoid forms. Depending on when others catch a glimpse of her, she may be completely unscathed... or beginning to show the signs of prolonged guerilla battle when the enemies were crawling from alleys and appearing from the shadows, sweat lathered on her flanks, blood staining her side and dribbling down a leg from a wound that slipped past the cracks in her armor. Blood that isn't hers on her hooves. But depending on who catches sight of her-]


A. [MERIDIAN (RESCUE)] [Just when things might have begun to look dire, the numbers overwhelming, the sound of a galloping horse(?) signals the arrival of the cavalry. A mounted archer, perhaps, because a long, thick arrow suddenly pierces through the skull of an enemy, an equine form arches overhead in a long leap from a nearby raised path... but when they land heavy onto a Shimmered human accompanied by the crack of enemy bones and a cry, kicking and lashing out to grab and bodily throw another into a canal... And the identity turns out to be centaurine. It's Hayame, her hair shorn short in the Harbinger Oracle ripped half-down and wild about her face when she turns in a whip of long tail to extend her hand with urgency.]

Grab on- !

[There's no time for debate, is there? There's more of them rallying, closing in.]

B. [ZENITH (ATTACK)] [For Zenites, though, there is not a single hint of hesitation nor mercy. Hayame has been warning Meridians for months and months that their enemies were enemies and should be treated as such, that those who trusted them or claimed that this one was good or could be trusted were a pack of fools, that those who were reckless enough to invite them to their city in friendship to spy openly upon them and prepare for gods knew what would be held responsible once the truth of things came out...

And now it has. Whether they are actively attacking someone, distracting the Legionary, "helping" Springstar citizens, or even just existing in the chaos... Hayame does not hesitate to fire on sight, aiming for a kill, the head or the heart, without a single warning, the snarling threat unleashed only after the arrow has flown.]


I will take your head for this, Zenite!

02 ↣ JANE DOE [FIELD HOSPITAL] ↣ 雌人馬の顔をかけている人間の女

[When the chaos is over, and the attackers are gone... The wreckage remains. Houses looted, stores damaged, blood and bodies strewn about the street, and the injured crying out for aid. Makeshift triage centers and places for treatment spring up wherever someone with medical training or healing magic gets to work and the usual clinics and hospitals are deemed too far or too crowded to handle more patients.

And in one of these makeshift field hospitals, there is a human woman lying seemingly unconscious in the shadow of a shop awning requisitioned as a roof over the patients' heads. Half of her face and skull is swathed in crusted blood and bandages, there are bruises all over her body- at least, her upper body, her lower half seems to be naked, covered for modesty with a blood sheet, the shape of a splint up and down one leg visible in how it drapes.

The strange thing is... what is visible of her face seems to look like a certain Meridian-aligned shard-bearer named Hayame. It can't be, surely, because Hayame is a centaur, and this woman is... very obviously not. And Hayame's hair had been shorn short in the Harbinger Oracle, but this woman's hair is longer. But whoever she is, she lays quietly on her pallet, dead to the world and the chaos of the immediate aftermath of the Tribune's assassination. Elsewhere across Springstar, anyone who happens to look for Hayame... will not find her, though plenty of people can recall seeing her fighting in battle here or there. Anyone who reaches out in Communion will feel nothing- not someone intentionally hiding their presence, just absence of consciousness or ability to respond.

Perhaps... Perhaps she was a casualty of battle. Her human doppelganger managed to survive, at least. Maybe. It hasn't been a full day yet. Only time would tell. The healers are stretched thin.]


03 ↣ FROM A DECURION, RESPECTS [HELIOPOLIS CHURCH] ↣ 最終に、護民官に敬意を払う

[Whatever had happened (and she isn't exactly volunteering that information), Hayame manages to make it to the latter days of the Tribune's lying-in-state. There are bandages and a splint still supporting one of her back legs, which seem a bit shaky at times, and she looks... slightly wane, her body having been mostly healed but left exhausted by the energy expelled in the process. Despite that, she has dressed herself formally in black robes and wrap (with help) and styled her hair and cosmetics (with help), befitting the solemnity and formality of the occasion.

She requires the aid of her escort to make it up the stairs of the grand Church, her injured limb still stiff, but... after the Harbinger Oracle broadcast, it had become foolish to deny their connection or hide their relationship any longer. She takes his arm and relies on him slightly in public, despite never allowing such before. In the hallowed halls of the Church, she waits patiently amongst citizens and shard-bearers alike for her turn to pay her respects... And when she is the one beside the altar, staring down at the Tribune's face in preserved repose... She releases Claude's arm to slowly and painstakingly lower her powerful body, biting back the pain required to do so until her belly is on the floor, her palms following suit, and from there... She bows her head deeply in a final show of respect to the man. Even if they had disagreed on how to handle Zenith, and she had argued with his decisions as a war chief, he still...

She stays there, head bowed, for a long, long minute. Perhaps two.

Afterwards, she can be found in talks with Springstar citizens looking for assurance or someone to blame for what has happened, attempting to provide both but perhaps looking as if she could use some back-up or a reason to excuse herself... She can also be found alone, deep in thought with the light from the stained glass windows casting colorful reflections onto her dun coat.]


04 ↣ WILDCARD ↣ 鬼札

[Hit up Hayame's plotting comment if you'd prefer a custom starter/want to discuss a specific thread! Sorry I'm so late ;;]
warmare: (窮余の一策)

FOR [HERSELF] ➳ THE LIGHT OF MERIDIAN ➳ 最も暗い時が夜明けの始まり

[personal profile] warmare 2024-02-16 07:07 am (UTC)(link)
watch this space for a potential Tier Up, coming soon to a Meridian near you
Edited 2024-02-16 07:08 (UTC)
wolfish: (concern)

03

[personal profile] wolfish 2024-02-16 08:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ When Yuri first sights Hayame, she is accompanied by Claude. Though he has seen them together in the privacy of Hayame's residence, has since become accustomed to the signs of him littered about her home during their tutoring sessions, Yuri refrains from approaching. He tells himself that he will do so later.

The second occasion is when she bends before the remains of the Tribune, and it is a clear and visible labor with the state of her leg being what it is. For Hayame, who battles so fiercely for the cause, it must be difficult reconciling with Meridian having been dealt such a blow. He does not approach her then either, having no desire to interrupt that quiet and painful moment.

It's only when Hayame is quite alone that Yuri at last strides toward her, arcing his path so as to approach from the side of her good eye, though he knows full well she can hear him. Much as he does with Dimitri, he positions himself where he can easily be seen as a matter of course. He briefly notes that her makeup has held up well, despite the heat and emotion of this particular stretch of unending day, the hues subdued to match the occasion.

His own follow the same convention, so he imagines their people observe similar customs of mourning. ]


How are you holding up?

[ He asks quietly, so as not to disturb anyone passing by. ]
Edited 2024-02-16 08:03 (UTC)

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kaientai: (042)

03

[personal profile] kaientai 2024-02-17 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ Some people would probably say wearing a hat in a church is rude, but if Ryouma cared about that, he wouldn't have done it. It's stupid when he thinks about how he literally hides behind it, but this is hardly his most unhealthy way of coping with things. He'd set aside his aversion to funerals and shown up to pay his respects to a man he'd barely known.

Ryouma hasn't felt this way in a long time. The worst part is that he recognises the feeling, which makes him restless because he's it only happens during times in his life that later turned out to be major turning points. It's that awareness that starts him walking after he'd escaped the crowd. He hates big funerals, especially. Walking has always been his meditation, so Ryouma hopes some answers will spontaneously drift from the fog of thoughts and feelings. The anger he'd felt after what Silco had done to Quetzalcoatl had gone, but nothing had appeared to replace it. He had once said he applied his knowledge of navigation to find his way through life but now feels utterly adrift without a clear heading. It's a bad feeling.

He finds his way here to this quiet area he'd assumed would be empty. It's out of the way, and he wanted to smoke. You're probably not supposed to do that in church either, but to Ryouma, it's just another fancy building. He's surprised to discover Hayame here and turns to leave — he hadn't intended to disturb her — but hesitates. The part of him that cares about others has always been the stronger part, winning out easily over his politeness, and Ryouma is certain that if this has been hard for him, it's been far worse for someone who has been here a lot longer. ]


How are you feeling?

[ It feels like an inadequate question when it could mean anything, but he's not expecting a particular answer either. She's been injured, and Meridian suffered a staggering blow, so Ryouma imagines she probably feels a lot of things; he asks because he's willing to listen. ]

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warmare: (自害)

FOR CLAUDE ➳ A REUNION IN THE RUBBLE ➳ 愛してくれた人へ返すべき言葉

[personal profile] warmare 2024-02-18 02:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[They had not been together when the fighting in Springstar began. Hayame had been at her usual duties with the Legionary, training the archers near Heliopolis, and Claude had still been in Alenroux. She grabbed her weapons and galloped out with the soldiers into the streets, and he mounted his wyvern and made the journey. There had been a time when they were able to unite, when together from the air and from the ground their arrows had ended the lives of Shimmered Kowloon thugs and monsters from Ryad that sought to kill civilians in the street and sow chaos. But in that same chaos, they had been separated, Hayame vengefully turning her halved gaze on Zenite shardbearers…

And she had not been seen since. It’s been over a day. Any attempt to commune with her was met with nothing- no hint of presence, no consciousness, no awareness. Not someone shutting someone out, like she had before when she’d desperately been trying to hide from others in the aftermath of her run-in with a demon, unwilling to try and communion with her emotions in turmoil. Nothing. Not even the faint pulse of soul that came from a Shard in a dormant state, calling out to be found and returned to the soil of the Tree. Either she is unconscious… or she is gone.

The damage left in the wake of the attack impedes the search. The usual hospitals and clinics overflow, and it becomes somewhat difficult to know where to take the injured, where field hospitals have sprung up. The healers and doctors exhaust their magics, or their body’s stamina. When asked, no nurse or white mage nods affirmatively when asked if they have an injured centaur amongst their patients. So where… ?

It nearing the end of the second day before the centaur young Lyra called “Master Hríd” shows up looking for who he calls Khalid. Somewhat out of breath, sweat lathered on his flanks, the burly middle-aged centaur (who, Hayame had muttered under her breath before introducing them at the last meeting of centaurine Springstar citizens, never seemed to wear a shirt “despite having three competent-seeming wives”) is there with news. He doesn’t know how it happened, how she wasn’t identified until then, but Hayame has been found.

Once Hríd shows Claude to the proper place, the elderly healer who had set up the makeshift triage center in a residential district home near Heliopolis has half an answer. She doesn’t know why, or how, but that woman definitely hadn’t been a centaur when she’d been brought unconscious to her the other day. She had definitely been human, she swears, only two legs… and there’d been so much blood and dirt on her face and hair that she hadn’t recognized her from the broadcast of the Harbinger Oracle trial, she hadn’t seen well for years, you see… but oh, do not worry… she managed to save the left eye! It had been touch and go for a minute there, she’d almost thought she’d have to just remove it…

And there, where she leads, is Hayame, on a pallet out in the woman’s backyard, laying unconscious near several other injured citizens of more human persuasion nursing broken arms, savage bites, and slash wounds from the invaders. Her body has been washed slightly wherever the healer had been working, but her clothing is covered in dust, dirt, and dried blood, one back leg splinted, bandages covering the left side of her face much like how she had tried to hide her sickly green new eye when she had stumbled home from her “repayment”. … Curiously, her hair seems to have grown since Claude last saw her, from the ends brushing the nape of her neck to noticeably past her shoulders.

… She’s as healed up as this healer can manage for now. She might be able to do more later, once her magic recovers, but… her patient’s life shouldn’t be in danger. Why she won’t wake, however… the old woman shakes her head a little, trying to explain. In a very short time, her body had been forced to heal at an unnaturally fast rate… it was likely too tired to muster waking yet.

Give it time? Or call another healer, if you like. But she has to sterilize her tools and get back to work with her hands where she can. And in the meantime… Hríd helps to gently turn Hayame’s heavy body over to ease her breathing, carefully arranging her with makeshift cushions the most comfortable way a centaur can lie before clapping Claude on the shoulder and telling him that he’ll be back when he can, just leave word with one of his wives if you need help.

… Take care.]

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warmare: (pic#16264547)

FOR NEBULA ➳ RESCUE IN THE RUBBLE ➳ 瓦礫からの手

[personal profile] warmare 2024-02-18 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[The damage to Springstar has been done.

Though the attacks are winding down, the last of the Shimmered Kowloon thugs and the monsters of Ryad being pursued by Shard-bearers and the Legionary, there is still chaos in the streets. Injured citizens cry out for aid, covered in blood, and the dead litter the streets. Smoke curls in the air from a stray fire here, there, and shattered glass on the ground, doors rent off hinges, show where looting has occurred. Some people just weep where they are, because they have heard the news traveling fast through the city.

The Tribune has been assassinated.

Though most of the buildings of the city have escaped damage, unlike when the Blight roots had torn through walls, soil, and columns of everything they had come across, the invaders focus on causing panic and sowing confusion had resulted in some rather dramatic property damage. What had once been a rather large bakery complex has collapsed into rubble, half of it seared from an explosion caused by mill dust combusting when introduced to fire. And if a certain Shard-bearer happens to be passing by, or searching the area for those in need of aid...

A rock shifts, and many other pebbles cascade downwards in chain reaction. A sound, long and strained, is faintly audible... and then the rock shifts again, just enough... Just enough to create a hole large enough for a bloody hand to thrust through, seeking some sort of anchor or escape.]

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kinaesthesia: (60)

1b

[personal profile] kinaesthesia 2024-02-19 08:27 am (UTC)(link)
[It is getting late into the conflict by the time the two of them cross paths, though it is hard to tell with as chaotic a blur everything has shifted into. Gavial’s mood has has taken a considerable downward swing by this point; the job she had initially come here to do—provide an eye-catching enough distraction while the real mission is undertaken—feels incredibly superfluous in the wake of all of this. What good is causing a scene or tangling with the Legionary when the streets have turned into a hotbed of chaos already?

She’d made a good effort to do as she had promised at first, but the attacks on the civilians are too egregious to ignore, especially when she had put time and considerable effort only weeks ago into helping the people here deal with these very attacks, before they had ramped up to this seemingly unstoppable point. The civilians could care less of her good will now that things had shaken out this way, and less so the Meridian Shard-bearers. This one in particular.

Gavial is heaving a breath, lowering her axe after just dispatching another shimmer-mad lunatic, when she hears something just behind her that she quickly recognizes as the thundering of approaching hooves. Ever alert on the battlefield, it proves to be her salvation as the motion to turn and seek out its source prevents that swiftly fired arrow from finding its more precise—and lethal—target. It makes a not insignificant shot against one arm instead of finding a home in her heart, and she’s biting down on a wordless shout and a curse as her eyes land on the odd kuranta woman responsible.

She’s reaching for the familiar feel of her healing Arts to mend the damage even as she starts moving, axe still held tightly in hand; if there’s anyone amongst Meridian who she knows is deadly serious about a fight, this woman would be chief among them, leaving Gavial with little room to be sloppy. Normally, she’d be raring for a chance to go against someone so strong in a serious fight, however the conditions are far from ideal.

…But there’s been no sign at all from Amos that he’s completed his mission yet, so fine—it’s a fight she’ll get. She can’t let all this be for nothing. She still has a job to do.]


If you’re going to come after me with all of this going on, I’m going to make you work for it!

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tattooism: (化け「南の魔女・喪中」)

KIRITSUBO (ZONE-00) 🔮 EXALT (ZENITH)

[personal profile] tattooism 2024-02-16 02:34 pm (UTC)(link)
01 ⛤ RECONNAISSANCE [AROUND HELIOPOLIS]
⛤ Form: A White Dove, White Cat, or White Dog (Pick Your Poison)

[In the weeks leading up to the attack on Springstar, there is a new addition to the Heliopolis population. Not that anyone would likely be able to tell. After all... that new addition is simply an animal, the sort you would not be surprised at all to find or see in this bustling part of the city. A dove sitting on the branch of a small tree along the street, a stray cat hunting mice over the rooftops, a dog left off leash that wanders around looking for a kind hand.

But the animal is watching everything. As distasteful as Kiritsubo found it, proud enough to dislike using her abilities to transform into base creatures tanuki considered lesser than themselves, she had undertaken the favor that Amos Burton had asked of her, the infiltration of Heliopolis, and she would do it well. Not because he asked her, now, but... because she agreed it should be done.

Kiritsubo's commitment to neutrality and balance sometimes made people mistakenly believe that this meant she never involved herself in the events around her, always remaining apart and refusing to act in anyone's interest. She is perfectly content allowing them to think that. But she took steps to make things balanced when she judged it appropriate... and after two Oracle trial wins, now was the time for Zenith to claim a victory. And she would help assure it, in her way.

Which means, before she makes any further moves... She had to make sure that she could enter the Heliopolis without triggering alarms, that there weren't some sort of powerful magics placed upon the building that would strip her shapeshifting magic away. So that means... there is a white cat with bright blue eyes appealing for pets, twining between a Meridian shard-bearer's legs. Or perhaps it is a white dog with dark eyes, panting eagerly for food after a shard-bearer eating on the go. Perhaps it's even a dove that has landed on a head intent on making a nest of some thick hair.

... Fond of animals, are you? This one seems to have plans to stick around with you.]


02 ⛤ DAMSEL IN DISTRESS [NEAR HELIOPOLIS]
⛤ Form: Shāza, a clerical assistant at Heliopolis

[In the midst of the chaos of the attacks on Springstar, there are countless citizens who fall victim to the reckless blitz enacted by Shimmered Kowloon brutes and the targeted violence of Ryad's monstrous occupants long kept from the sun. Blood smears across the cobblestones, bodies lay where they have fallen, and those who cannot defend themselves can only hide or run.

In the streets near where a certain Tribune resided, near where at this very moment certain plans were being put into motion... A cry rings out over the scattered sounds of battles across the city, and suddenly a woman dressed in the robes favored by the Tribune's staff comes careening into view, clutching rent garments to her body and panting heavily, eyes wild with what must be fear that meet yours-

Right before a pair of gnoll-like beastmen come scrambling around the corner after her, her scent in their noses and her blood and soft meat their goal. Desperate, she changes direction to run towards and not past her potential rescuer, tears glistening in her eyes. How insanely lucky is she that you, a strong and capable Shard-bearer are there to save her.

- It is luck, isn't it? Why wouldn't it be? But you better act fast, because those beastmen are far quicker on their feet than a poor injured human woman.]


03 ⛤ A SHOW OF MOURNING [THE CHURCH, SPRINGSTAR]
⛤ Form: Shāza, a clerical assistant at Heliopolis

[It has been some time now, since Kiritsubo had begun living as the woman she had targeted for the taking in order to infiltrated Heliopolis. Her observations before she approached the cat-loving woman had given her plenty of information to work with about her personality, how she spoke, and how she moved, and the seduction that followed, as well as the last interrogation before she let a demon take care of the woman had filled in the rest. Shāza Vaiśvaṇa disappeared from Springstar... and Kiritsubo in her shape filled her place in the world as if she had never been gone for a single second.

She had worked primarily within Heliopolis as an assistant to the Tribune and other high-ranking staff, and so her face is likely not familiar to Meridian shard-bearers unless they were frequent visitors of the administration. At the Church, she blends into the other staff coming to pay their respects, wearing the dark robe of mourning alongside the rest of them, a dark veil worn over her face and mouth. But she does leave the other citizens of Springstar eventually, and after a Shard-bearer has paid their respect to the dead Tribune that lay in state... They might find themselves approached, a gentle voice calling out softly,]


Shard-bearer... ?

[A hand reaches out as if wanting for some sort of support, or perhaps to just stop them from leaving, but the woman seems to keep herself from committing the rudeness of grabbing a stranger at such a solemn event.]

Might I... I am sorry, but please... Might we speak... ?

04 ⛤ WILDCARD

[Hit up Kiritsubo's plotting comment if you'd prefer a custom starter/want to discuss a specific thread! Please fill out fortune-telling information if you have the chance! Sorry this is so late! If you want/plan to have your character suspect who Kiritsubo actually is, please drop me a line so we can work something out! ♡]
tattooism: (化け「夢の妹・病」)

FOR DIMITRI 🪷 A FROZEN BEAUTY [pre-dating assasination]

[personal profile] tattooism 2024-02-19 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[There were not many things in this world, or any world, that would make Kiritsubo angry. She has lived for a long time, and she hailed from the world of spirits, where things could be... different, from what humans might expect. Were she to be attacked as Zenite, if she were to be hated, if someone were to try and stymie her side plans in Kenos... Kiritsubo would hold no real grudge, or muster much beyond a bit of annoyance.

What has happened now, though...

The corruption had spread to the shard Yima had given her upon her pledge to Zenith. "Given", hah- She had trapped that soul herself in her own world, and so as far as Kiritsubo was concerned, that witch had stolen it from her only to offer it back and expect gratitude. Still, she had smiled and took it and pledged a casual bit of allegiance in turn. She had checked it as well as she was able, and it was Kiyoami as far as she could tell.

So she had put him where he'd been before Yima had stolen him. The corruption that spread from the new shard she had been "gifted", though, the one that had felt like yet another familiar soul... that place allowed the infection of the shard to spread all too easily to her own body, and her own shard. And she... is so, so cold. Colder than she has ever been, even though she was a woman of the north and the cold snows, to the point that she is beginning to think her flawless shapeshifting abilities might even begin to suffer-

So before that happens, she must remove herself from the task she had undertaken for Amos Burton. She sheds the form of the animal she had been occupying in her spying efforts near the Heliopolis in a back alley, returning briefly to her natural tanuki form so that she might... Where- Where should she go? Sebastian Michaelis had been able to compare the damage in her gifted shard to what he had seen in his, but though hers had yet to explode as his had, passing the threshold of time she had felt like a doomed countdown with her heart...

Colder, colder... Where might warmth be? Somewhere to hide until this latest chill passed? Her mind goes to the blonde she had seen earlier, whose legs she had twined between meowing in the guise of a small white cat... and her paws turn towards the home she had visited not so long ago, shakily navigating over roofs and back alleys until she can find another hidden corner to transform again, returning to the shape of the delicate blonde matron he had met her in when she'd showed him her inkwork. It is that woman who comes to his door to knock...

And who he will find half-collapsed against the door frame when he comes to open it or arrives home from elsewhere, her pallor weak, her gaze unfocused, and her body shivering despite the clutch of her arms and the summer heat of Springstar.]

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tattooism: (化け「北の魔女・可愛い」)

FOR LINK 🪷 A PLACE BY THE FIRE [post assasination/gun/chaos]

[personal profile] tattooism 2024-02-19 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[A lot has happened in the past weeks.

But though her task in arranging the Tribune's schedule had ended days before Cyrus' assassination, and though she had been warned by the assassin to return to Highstorm sooner rather than later... It seemed she had made the right choice to remain in Springstar pretending to be Shaza, preserving the identity for future use if need be by not disappearing or killing "her" but instead playing out a slow descent into mental exhaustion after the bloody attacks until "she" tendered her resignation and took leave of the city. Not that Kiritsubo would have been in Yima's manor when that weapon was fired anyway...

She picks through the rubble out of curiosity, though, taking on a form no one in Highstorm knew so that she might listen without bias or pressure to the feelings of the people now that Yima was gone (and yet, how strange, that her body was yet to be found). Following some vague sense, or perhaps just her usual wanderlust, she eventually headed south, away from the City and into the area where that "gun" supposedly fired from...

It grows cold, though, as she walks. Ah, what timing. Ever since that new Shard had corrupted the one Yima had "given" to her (taken, more like, from her very body in order to turn around and try to indebt her) it had grown cold and delicate, so brittle at times she was sure it might crack no matter how carefully she cradled it somewhere warm and soft and hidden... But occasionally, as if reacting to something or losing a constant subtle battle against corruption, the temperature would drop-

Her body and her own shard, unfortunately, go with it. Perhaps it is some sort of fate, that when she turns to head back she sees... Smoke. There is a slim hint of smoke above the trees in the distance, and so for now, curious and cold... She heads towards it. It certainly does feel like destiny, then, when she enters the clearing the aroma of burning wood came from... to sense the scent of a familiar man is there with it. There is a tent, a campfire, and there sitting beside it, his back to her...]


- Mind if I take a seat by your fire, Link? I'm awfully cold.

[The voice is not one he would recognize. He had seen her as a slim, lovely blonde woman with vibrant teal eyes, a sensual, caramel-skinned one with a gaze of gold, and in Communion before his message was cut off he might have gotten a sense of pale hair and black eyes, but the person who hails him now by name is a youthful red-haired woman. A maiden (hah) who is noticeably shivering, one hand vaguely held over her stomach(?) and the other clutching at her arm to hold a thin coat and fluffy fur scarf close.]

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bakedapple: (fanart // master sword)

[personal profile] bakedapple 2024-03-10 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ That quiet, wanting sigh awakens something inside him. Yes, he knows this sound. Zelda made the most precious, spellbinding sounds whenever he touched her like this... Sweet nothings and little vulnerable noises, needy and trusting and somehow conveying her love for him without words. That's how it sounds, even now, when it isn't even Zelda making those noises...

Link accepts the invitation to kiss without a second thought. His hand curls against the back of her head, cupping it in his palm, as he presses his lips against hers. With this first kiss, he acknowledges the permission he's been given and forgives himself for this selfish, guilty desire that's overtaken them both.

But he needs this. And maybe Kiritsubo does, too.
]

Lay back.

[ Coaxing her with a slight push of his body, he kisses her again before she's tipped too far away from his mouth. From there, his hands momentarily pull away (yes, even from her cunt,) to help her lay down on the log they're both sitting on.

...What a beautiful view. Sprawled out like this, he sees that Kiritsubo replicated the same clothing she was wearing on the night in Gerudo Town — or rather, her lack of clothing. From her waist down, she's completely naked. The panties he'd pushed aside earlier, before she transformed, are nowhere to be seen. There's nothing between him and her plush, pink pussy, framed by her supple thighs and a brush of golden hair.

Link already knows what he wants. What he wants to do to her, to get the satisfaction of pleasing her. He wastes no time. Lowering himself to the snowy ground so he can kneel between her legs, he spares a second to wipe the tears from his cheeks and then bends downward to softly kiss the cleave of her lips. The sweet, irresistibly familiar scent of her slick fills his nose. With one thumb, he pulls her open carefully.
]

You're so beautiful.

[ Link breathes, uncharacteristically hungry. After that night with the Gerudo, it became normal for them to talk throughout sex. "Communication is key," the Gerudo had told her. ]

...What should I do first, Zelda? What do you want?

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