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

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... ]

[kinaesthesia]

[Despite having maintained a room here in the manor since first harmonizing, Gavial’s not attached to the point of heartbreak at seeing this mess. Not for her own sake, anyway. There’s some sting of seeing something familiar reduced to this, sure, but it meant more to others. It meant that people had gotten hurt. And she was complicit in it.

It takes her a moment to respond to Senti’s question. She kicks over something that had once been a bed frame, unflinching under the other woman’s critical gaze.]

I don’t think the choices we made here are agreeing with me.

[She sighs, and finally turns her undeniably discord-altered gaze toward her.]

Maybe this was a mistake.

[alliterating]

[ That discord jumps out at her and Senti resists the urge to flinch a little. Instead she clambers up the pile of debris, getting herself closer. ]

Yeah? Which choices are those?

[ She'd stayed out of most of it. Now she's just trying to figure out what to do in the aftermath. ]

And what are you gonna do about it?

[kinaesthesia]

[Gavial sighs and tries to let some of the tension slip from her shoulders—and is only partially successful.]

The way we went after Cyrus. After Springstar.

[Because that part right there was the crux of it. She’d gone along with the plan of Cyrus’s murder, sure, fine. But the indiscriminate harm unleashed onto the city in order to further mask it is not what she wanted to happen.]

I would say I’d have some strong words for Yima, but…

[She casts a glance over the rubble before them. Yeah. Kind of a moot point with her gone.]

[alliterating]

Right... that.

[ She frowns and falls into a squat on the rubble, picking up a piece of debris and staring at it before she tosses it aside. ]

...I wasn't there.

[ She'd stayed out of it. ]

But I've been hearin' about it. Was it as bad as all that?

III. wildcardy

[twohand]

— what were you thinking?!

[ It takes him a while, to return to Highstorm, and when he does — he's furious. Between the seams of their Aspect, there's no hiding the revulsion he has towards everything that went down. Zenith's decisions, Meridian's decisions. Moreso Zenith, right now; they are the side he chose, after all.

The one he wanted something better for.

Sweat-soaked and battered, he throws back the hood of his cloak as he advances on her, as if ready to strike her down where she stands. ]

Why did you do it, Gavial? Why did you help them murder a man in cold blood?!

[ Beneath the veneer of anger, there is something heartsick, something betrayed — he cannot account for Meridian, but he can account for those he claimed as his own. Maybe he can start with a woman he thought was on the same wavelength as him, who was supposed to understand. ]

[kinaesthesia]

[Her perpetually sour mood since everything has transpired has hardly been tempered just yet. There is hate and there is disappointment and most of all there is guilt hanging heavy there in her heart, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. This is not a feeling she is accustomed to wrestling.

And that entwining of his own emotions with hers through that ever-open mental channel between them makes her own mental state stir into a roiling mess—even as it forewarns her of his approach before his shouts reach her ears. She whirls on her heel to face him, gaze narrowed and expression tight. But she holds her ground.

She might be raring for a fight.]

Because I thought it would be the right thing to do!

[And it feels like such a stupid thing to have thought, now in hindsight—but isn’t that always the way. But that momentary thought is enough rattle her, to let her doubts and her guilt surge in the roiling tempest of her own feelings. Something that would be just as clear to him as that striking sense of betrayal is to her.]

It was supposed to be just him. It was supposed to put them on the back foot without—

[Her fists ball up tightly at her sides. She can’t even say it. How had she been so damn naive?]

[twohand]

The right thing — to do? How could you... think that?

[ Something cold slips throughout him, horror and shock and a deeply unsettled thing. The crocodilian woman before him is raring for a fight, she wants to do something other than think... and maybe being allowed to for so long has been why she can stand there and even, for one second, believe that murdering anyone is the right thing to do.

He recoils from her, seething mad and simultaneously horrified... as if looking at someone who has suddenly transformed into a beast. An enemy. ]

Well, it wasn't. It absolutely was one of the most horrible things to do. Did you... is this the Zenith you believe in? Hers?

[kinaesthesia]

I don’t… I don’t know anymore.

[There’s something about seeing the way he recoils back, the way that he looks at her, that stings way more than it should. She wants to reach forward and grab him by the shirt and yank him forward, prevent any sort of retreat. But for once in her life she’s afraid of the mess she might make of things with her own strength.

And yet paradoxically, she finds herself standing her ground with teeth grit and gaze locked unwaveringly on him, tail in a slow, anticipatory sway behind her. She’s waiting, practically begging him to strike first so that she can have the fight she wants without having to instigate. It would be so much easier. She’s Tiacauh; this is what they do. Turn off their brains when things get hard and just swing their fists instead.

But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?]

I just want us to get through this without endless bloodshed. I thought it was the best solution. Stupid enough to believe it would be that easy.

[Just one life. One life to tip things in their favor and stop things from spiraling. Instead, everything about it was the exact opposite, and there’s been a consistent and undeniable ache in her chest in the wake of it all.]

[twohand]

[ Gavial is bereft, but he will not hesitate to hold her accountable for what she did. Failing to would be failing the true potential Zenith had, for everyone who needed them to save them and pave the way. ( He can feel her need to fight, because they are both Advocates. Gavial is as familiar to him as his own heart; perhaps moreso, because his own heart has been lost for so long. Right now, all he is at the core of a soul is a long, soundless wail of awe and horror. Disappointment and deep, deep compassion. So much, that it threatens to paralyze him with empathy and make him useless to anyone. Uncertain and unsure. )

What he does not do, is give her a fight.

Instead, he purposefully casts down his weapons. Twin blades that she gave him clattering to the ground with his cloak, leaving him to push his tunic up over scarred arms, the long, dark line of his throat exposed and hands empty. He'd approached someone else like this, once. Amos. People who were ready to brawl, to bleed and be bled, and he came to them with open arms and empty hands. Not an instigator, he'd never give her a fight in this state. ]

Invading a city and murdering a beloved leader is... how could it ever be the best solution, let alone a good one? Did you even really think the people? Or did you just follow an order?

[ Please, please, Gavial. His heart sings to her. Please don't be so far gone down that path that you can't come back. Don't give up. ]

This isn't the Zenith I want, Gavial. We're here to protect and help them, even against our own Faction-mates. Against our own "leader". We're advocates.

II (kind of?)

[furibund]

[ The problem with the onslaught of attacks culminating to this day was that if there was any doubt the Zeniths were behind it it disappears. They swarm the city along with the monsters who want to do nothing more than devour people, for fun and for food. It's funny. She's seen planets ravaged, she's helped herself. Now it doesn't get easier. ]

[ Protecting the civilians had become her first objective. Once one is out of the way there always appears to be another - the Zenites and the brutes from underground ceaseless in their attacks. Their search, whatever they want to claim, and she'd only just stabbed the last Shimmered out madman in the stomach on the side street when she hears the commotion. ]

[ Her mouth twists and she rushes forward - left arm charging into a blast that tears into the man Gavial had put into a cart. He slams further backward, cart and man hitting wall behind and she turns just to snap at Gavial: ]

Get the hell out of here now. Your people have already shown their kindness.

[ She spits it out - pointed in her meaning and her distrust. It doesn't matter that Gavial is trying to help or has helped: She is a Zenite. And this is an orchestrated Zenite affair, targeting people who aren't involved. ]

[kinaesthesia]

[When the brute she’d just tossed aside gets further blasted, Gavial straightens up both in surprise and gladness. She turns to seek out the one responsible for giving her a sudden but not unwelcome hand in dealing with the madman—and freezes for just a moment as Nebula’s biting words hit her.

Ah. So that’s how it’s gonna be.

She spares the shimmered man one last fleeting glance—satisfied that their combined one-two punch had sent him down and out—and slowly turns to face the Meridian staring her down. Her huge axe is held low to the ground with a one-handed grip of its haft, and she lets it hang there with blade just barely scraping the paved stones of the road. It’s not a threat, but she’s making no real effort to back down either.]

I don’t give a damn how the rest of them want to rationalize all of this. I’m not going to stand by and let them hurt people who have nothing to do with this.

[And the atypically harsh edge lining her words speak even to the implication beneath that: I’m not going to let you stop me from helping, either.]

[furibund]

[ A different person — Mantis, probably — would believe the woman before her. Gavial hadn't shown her unkindness when she arrived, but she's not a fool either. They're on opposite sides of a war her side chose to escalate beyond repair. The arm-turned-gun remains and she holds baton firmly in hand, the crackling of electricity against synthetic skin. ]

[ She does not move, because she has no interest in fighting this woman. Mostly. She had seen her fight just now and believes - at least - in this moment their common enemy comes from beneath. That does not change how she feels as she laughs, more of a scoff then not: ]

Like hell you didn't know your side was planning an assault.

[ It's demanding, accusatory almost - Questioning how truly naive this woman was. Tries not to think of her past, when a younger her ran off to search for a heart of a planet without stopping to think the destruction it meant. You can't cut off the head without trimming a few branches, or something like that.]

[ She snarls, cold and hard: ]

What makes you think anyone will want your help?

[kinaesthesia]

[That accusation gets her gritting her teeth—because she had been that naive, in a way. She knew there was an attack coming and she didn’t like it, but she figured as long as it could be localized to the leader, then they could mitigate the damage. She’d ride in to help provide a cover and a distraction both, and it would suck, but they would at the very least minimize casualties.

Instead she gets this, and the harsh realization that the attacks that have been ramping up here—attacks she had gone out of her way to help the Meridian civilians survive just weeks ago—had all been part of the plan all along. A part she hadn’t been privy to, and that aspect of it stings almost as much as the complete and utter stupidity she felt at realizing there was never any way this was going to go as clean and uncomplicated as she had so naively thought it would.

So she leaves it uncommented on, and thankfully Nebula provides her a good enough reason to do so when she tosses another set of harsh words her way.

She scowls in return, unmoving even as she eyes the weapons held at the ready by this confrontational Meridian.]

You really think anyone has the luxury of being picky in this mess? They don't have to want it. I’m not going to sit back and watch it happen.

[furibund]

You already did.

[ She drives her first point back home with a tilt of her head. Even if she knew of Gavial's acts in Springstar the past few weeks that does not deny the mattes now - That they are being assaulted by Zenith forces and here she is. What, working against her own people? ]

This is the new world your side is promoting.

[ 'This' does not need a gesture. It is in the broken buildings, the Shimmered man still knocked out, a body recently ravaged. This is what they'd been promoting and if anything - if anything, if someone is here to help she would think that it'd be enough to show them how wrong a choice that is. ]

[ Nebula's smile is more dangerous and razor sharp than anything she adds: ]

If they don't have a choice, then it's a good thing they have me.

[ Direct, then added: ] Last chance. Get out of here.

III

[settingup]

[ Link had tried to give them a warning, but without full context Atsumu had been hesitant to fully leave the manor. It wasn't as if he really had anywhere else to go either. This was his home. This had been his home for well over a year, and now...

And now...

Atsumu stands there in the middle of the rubble, putting most of his weight on just one of his legs to alleviate the pain he's still feeling from the one that got crushed under this very same rubble. His own over the top energy seems completely tamped down as he stares dully at the crumbling heaps of building that surrounds him, taking a moment too long to look over at Gavial after she asks the question. ]

Yeah, pretty sure mine was right about there.

[ He lifts up his arm dully, pointing to a section of wall that's so caved in, it seems nearly impossible to navigate around in order to get back into the room. ]

[kinaesthesia]

[She regrets involving herself in what happened in Springstar for many reasons, but right now, looking over the devastated remains of what had been home to many people, she mostly regrets that it let her forget all about the frantic and haphazard warning Link had sent their way. She got too distracted with the fighting, with getting captured, with her roiling feelings of anger and disappointment to remember that there was a threat to her own people still laying in wait.

Gavial steps over a piece of debris to bring herself closer to Atsumu, gaze lingering on that leg he’s favoring for a moment; she’s too used to keeping an eye out for details like that with stubborn people unwilling to ask for help. But she leaves it uncommented on—if only for just a moment—as her gaze follows his indicating gesture.]

Maybe we can see what we can salvage from it.

[She doesn’t doubt her ability to find some way over there, but it’s not a safe or steady path to take even for someone not nursing an injured leg.]

You probably shouldn’t be climbing around in here with that leg of yours, though.

[settingup]

[ They should have listened, but after all the careful planning Amos had put in...

A strike like this was going to happen whether or not they pulled off the assassination, and Atsumu is convinced of that now thanks to the advance warning the got. It helped assuage some of his guilt about the whole fiasco, even if it still didn't feel good about the way the distraction played out.

Looking at all of this in front of him though, it's hard to feel as bad as he rationally knows he should.

Atsumu shuffles a little, making sure to keep the weight on his bad leg very brief, before shrugging off Gavial's comment. ]

It ain't even the worse I've had here at this point.

[ He's not saying it'll be fine, because he knows it won't, but he does want to see if there is anything he can salvage. He saved the one thing that really matters, but there are other things in the wreckage that meant something to him too, and as small as his collection of belongings was, they were still his. ]

[kinaesthesia]

[There’s a lot of could’ves, should’ves, and what-ifs they could run themselves ragged just thinking about, but it’s not gonna do them a whole lot of good at the moment. Is it a cautionary tale to take into future decisions? Sure, but in the moment it’s near-useless. The here-and-now, as heart-wrenching as it is to dwell on, both requires their attention and provides a sorely needed distraction in the work it provides.

Her mouth sets into a line as he tries to play it off.]

Yeah, I don’t doubt it. But I’d be a piss-poor doctor if I let someone make an injury worse under my watch.

[She glances around for a moment, eyes alighting on a solid-looking piece of debris. Stepping over, she then plants a foot on it and presses downward to test it’s stability. When it proves sufficient, she’s glancing back Atsumu’s way and motioning to the spot with a wave of a hand.]

Sit down a sec. We can look around all we want in a minute, but let me at least give it a look over and see if I can help deal with some of the pain.

[Her tone is stern; she absolutely will scruff him if he doesn’t want to cooperate.]

[settingup]

[ The urge to be stubborn in some stupid display of machismo does fester at the surface, but it's heavily outweighed by the desire to not be in physical pain on top of the emotional load that's pressing down on him. Gavial won't have to scruff him this time, because if she's offering to heal him up, he won't argue too much, even if he is aware of the fact that there are probably people with more pressing needs right now.

He had been trapped under that collapsing building for awhile though, so he figures if nothing else he's got a sad enough sob story that no one will judge him too much for it.

So with a quiet grunt, he starts to hobble his way over towards the makeshift examination table.

He's aware of who the people with some healing abilities are within Zenith are. It's important to be this late into the game, and that's proving more true than ever, but a healer is a touch different, and as he moves to try and gingerly set himself down on the debris he looks up at her to ask-- ]

Wait... are you seriously a doctor?

III

[erbe]

Here.

[Rin hasn't lived in Yima's manor for some time now, but that doesn't mean she won't help. In fact she's been practically overexerting herself in attempting to provide aid. She's not really witnessed so much death before, so at times it has her weak. Stunned.

Yet limbs must still work. Because there is work for them to do. So she hands Gavial some water.]

It's a lot. Don't forget to take care of yourself.

[Hypocrite.]

[kinaesthesia]

[It’s a lot easier to keep busy, keep helping, than it is to let a moment of downtime sneak in. It was good and it was productive, and most of all it meant that there were less chances for her thoughts to uselessly linger on everything that led up to this.

But not even she is capable of going nonstop, as Rin’s approach reminds her.]

Likewise.

[Said even as she accepts the offered water with a subdued nod of thanks. Gavial could be just as much as a hypocrite, but… Rin is right. She doesn’t need another repeat of what happened nearly a year ago, during the Blight.]

Think we could both use a moment of downtime. As much as I hate to say it, considering all that needs to get done.

[erbe]

[Tohsaka's shoulders slump with a bitter sigh.]

I suppose if I'm lecturing you I don't have the right to disagree.

[Settling against a heap of rubble, she lets her weight off her feet for a few moments. Wearily taking in the damage parts of the manor they haven't even touched yet.]

[kinaesthesia]

Attagirl.

[That garners a smirk from Gavial, but it’s fleeting. The mood just isn’t there.

She follows suit and finds a sturdy enough place to sit for a moment, taking a sip of that water. She eyes the drink in hand for a thoughtful moment afterwards, then her gaze drifts back to Rin.]

You’ve been holding up alright? Saying it’s been a crazy few days is a pretty big understatement…