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Entry tags:
- !event,
- arcane: silco,
- arknights: gavial,
- black butler: sebastian michaelis,
- culture (the): demeisen,
- enderal: jade the prophetess,
- ennead: set,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- fate/: flat escardos,
- fate/: quetzalcoatl,
- fate/: rin tohsaka,
- fate/: sakamoto ryouma,
- final fantasy xiv: cid garlond,
- fire emblem: claude von riegan,
- fire emblem: dimitri a. blaiddyd,
- fire emblem: shez,
- fire emblem: yuri leclerc,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- legend of zelda (the): link,
- life is strange: chloe price,
- marvel: nebula,
- oc: liem talbott,
- oc: matt jamison,
- persona: goro akechi,
- pumpkin scissors: alice l. malvin,
- suikoden: yuber,
- tsubasa reservoir chronicle: subaru,
- vampire hunter d: d
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.
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.
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:
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!
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!
no subject
[ So nothing as glorious (or restrictive) as a knight. He doesn't have particular feelings about it, seeing as it's necessary for people to get by, but he does lament having grown more muscular. Shame about that, really. ]
As for this bunch, I don't imagine they could ever be a bother.
[ He would happily pet these kitties as long as they wanted, in fact, were there not other business to attend to. Still, he doles out attention to each, as best he can with the limitations of having two hands when there are three cats.
His expression is soft and warm as he looks at their sweet little faces, in fact. ]
Though we do need to talk about your [ he very nearly says "costume" ] preparations...how's that coming along?
no subject
[Well, Yuri and D have something in common then: hired swordsmanship in one way or another.
The cats are gluttonous for Yuri's affections, but they don't scrap or fight for it. They allow this slave to bestow upon them the necessary penance for entering the Dokja household, and then they are good.
D slowly... looks down at himself. He did not change his own clothes, just took a bunch of it off. He has on Dokja's white trench coat, and his hair has been braided back. It's a very sad excuse for a disguise. HOWEVER! He does... look a bit unlike himself.]
...It's more difficult than I realized.
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Much like anything, it takes practice.
[ He did make an effort, and that's more than some may have done in his position. ]
Fortunately, you've got me here. We'll get you in proper form in no time.
[ Said with the full confidence of a man who has worn many masks, both literal and metaphorical. ]
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Gray and Dokja had looked at him bizarrely with his unusual requests.]
I have something Hayame left me as a gift. [YAY!] But it is black.
[Boo.
He should have had Dokja dress him like YJH. Black but different.]
What are your suggestions?
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[ Clearly, Hayame picked a color that D favors. Under most circumetances, that would work just fine. When not wanting to look too much like himself, however...
Yuri gives each cat one last offering of pets before he rocks back on his heels and stands. He'd come prepared for this, so he shrugs off a pack he'd been wearing and procures a bundle of maroon cloth that he offers to D. The color isn't so bright as to overwhelm him, hopefully. ]
Let's start with this.
[ It's a loose-fitted, hooded sweater. The size should be sufficient to make D look broader than he actually is and obscure the fact that he's missing a hand.
Yuri doesn't know what a hoodie is, but he has essentially found just that. ]
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[The haori-like robe is actually really comfortable, though D doesn't think it suits him at all. Which is a lie, he looks fine in it. If he would just stop wearing it over his regular leather clothes exactly like he's doing Dokja's coat right now.
The cats turn six beady eyes skyward to watch Yuri hand over something. D takes the cloth, opening it up a bit with one hand to see what it is. He's being modernized. Dokja will be happy.]
Follow me.
[He tucks the hooded sweater under his arm and turns to lead Yuri through the house and up the stairs. His gait is slow and steady, and it's clear it's this way because all of the animals follow them immediately. Another... cat... is waiting on them in D's room, using the bed as its own. It regards the entourage with a drowsy glance.
There is nothing special about D's room sadly, aside from a bizarre, dog-sized chia horse whose mane and tail are growing grass. The rest of the room is sparse. D's outer layers and his sword are near the small desk, and the top of the desk has neatly ordered books and paper. But that's all. Clean, overly simple. Nothing of D has been imprinted on this room at all.]
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He makes a mental note to drag D out to buy some furnishings that reflect his tastes, setting it aside for after they've seen to their investigations.
Eventually, his line of sight lands on the feline perched on D's bed. His cat, perhaps? Or maybe the cat had claimed him. He doesn't approach, well aware some cats are more skittish than others, and unwilling to potentially frighten D's fluffy pal. He's assuming this cat's fond of D. ]
Who's this little friend?
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Fluffy.
[The name coming out of D's mouth so serious and stalwart is extremely funny. LOOK, he did... not name these cats, thankfully. He's just out here moving his life to accommodate them.
Unfortunately, ANOTHER cat also emerges from beneath D's bed. This one is is an orange tabby. Dust has accumulated on its face, strung a bit between the whiskers and the whiskery brows. Orange cat behavior. Its tail does a little ? as it casually, languidly lumbers toward Yuri's feet as if it is unaffected by a single astronomical care in the whole world. Free. Ignorant. Smooth-brained. It gives Yuri's leg an arched rub, and it's meow is loud and heavy.]
...Norangie.
[Why the fck are there five cats?!
Anyhow, while Yuri is being accosted, D starts removing Dokja's coat so he can put the purple hooded sweater on.]
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Byleth named our cat Fluffy too.
[ Very original, truly. But he thinks the little black kitten with a feather-duster of a tail is content with his name, and there's value in the experience of naming a pet. Abyss had a slew of strays they all collectively named, but Byleth had surely never had a pet before. ]
He's also training him to hunt down plushes, if you can believe it.
[ Seeing as the orange cat of the bunch has approached him in such a friendly manner, Yuri crouches once again to offer his hand for potential pets. Five cats. To him that's living the dream, really. They all seem to get along too, from what he can tell, which is in itself remarkable when he thinks back on the territorial disputes cats had back home. The turf wars. ]
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Gray named this one.
[Gray and D and Byleth are all in the exact same Venn diagram, SO IT'S THE SAME ENERGY. They would name cats Fluffy. There are two Fluffys on almost the same street now. They can be the Fluffy friends.]
I don't think these hunt much. They are spoiled. Norangie does not like Kim Dokja, but he is Kim Dokja's cat.
[The cat lore. The cat also loves everyone else, including Yuri.
D smooths out the hooded sweater. It actually... doesn't look too bad on him. The purple goes with the sickly Victorian face and eyes and the black.]
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Oh yeah, our Fluffy's spoiled too. But Byleth's his absolute favorite, and that little cat'd probably pick up any little trick if it netted him more of the guy's attention.
[ The truth is, Byleth would dote on that kitty regardless. It's still very cute how the little guy is so eager to soak up Byleth's affection (and ample body heat) though, and Fluffy has become quite capable when it comes to finding plushes Byleth hides around the house for him. Regardless of size, their cat reliably brings his quarry to Byleth's bed-nest.
And this is a cat with three legs. The tenacity on that small cat... ]
But Dokja's cat doesn't like him?
[ Yuri looks up from the loving orange purrball curiously, only to get a good look at D checking the sweater. As he suspected, the color and size suit him. It likely helps that Yuri wears that sort of color himself, though not in as ample a quantity. Add some makeup to change his features just enough, and he ought to get past most people. That's the hope, anyway. ]
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Maybe he will write a story about the two Fluffys. Why is he writing?! He isn't a writer. How has Byleth done this to him?]
Not particularly. I couldn't tell you why.
[The idiocy in putting Dokja's coat back over the purple sweater while still in the black leather. It's fine. There is a lot going on here, but at least the color scheme doesn't look too awful. He looks less and less like himself every second that passes.]
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Byleth has this effect on people, when it comes to writing. He got Yuri doing it too, even. ]
...Well, I hadn't exactly considered you'd put the coat back on.
[ It is a lot to take in, and Yuri finds he needs a moment to deliberate whether this is fine. Ultimately, D seems rather attached to the idea of wearing the coat? And it does distract from the remaining black that the sweater can't cover, he supposes.
Ultimately, he'll accept the results of this closet cosplay. ]
Now that just leaves putting a little color on your face, then.
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D doesn't try to take the coat back off. He could... but he went through the trouble of asking Dokja, and for some reason, Dokja feels like the type of man to be a little sad when the coat isn't needed. Helping others and all that. The white breaks up all of D's dark, diseased Victorian aesthetics anyway.]
...
[He pauses and looks up at Yuri. Oh NO. Not the makeup. He forgot about the makeup.]
...Sure.
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In the meantime, Yuri pauses in serving his fourth feline of the day (and what a glorious day it is for exactly that) and starts drawing various and sundry implements from that pack he's got on him. There's an impressive little array of them, from brushes to glosses to palettes. The man knows his makeup. ]
I'll match it up to that ensemble you've got on. You'd be surprised how far a little contouring can go in changing a face...it's practically a mask when you do it the right way.
[ So as to stay on-brand, they're going in the direction of some goth-vkei hybrid. Rejoice, D... ]
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Has any man in all the world ever wanted to be ugly and normal outside of D?]
I didn't expect a mercenary to enjoy makeup.
[That one is on him.
He brings the chair out away from the desk, turning it toward the room and having a seat in it. When he turns his head up, it might be difficult to figure out where to go at the start: D's entire face is so inhumanly perfect. He does not have a single blemish, or scar, or even a pore. Everything is somehow symmetrical. His lashes are long and thick; his nose angular; the touch of a boy's youth has carved his wide mouth and jawline, balancing the beauty of the rest of his face.
His androgyny is almost ugly actually in it's flawlessness. Even if no one knew he was a dhampir, it isn't hard to look at him and tell he isn't completely human.]
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[ Yuri shrugs, wasting no time in approaching the chair so he can get to work. He'd already observed this obvious reality, but D really is damn pretty. Having heard it all his life, he can only imagine D is accustomed to and perhaps tired of the same... Which means that he doesn't comment upon it as he busies himself applying makeup.
There's something distinctive about D's features. Something different, beyond an unreal prettiness. Of course, it's not something Yuri can quite put his finger on. So he merely categorizes it as different in his mind as he works, in some odd and undefined way. ]
You ever try your hand at makeup before?
[ An idle question, but one D won't have to stay still and avoid answering unless he'd rather not say. ]
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No. [But he doesn't want Yuri to think it's because he finds it weird or stupid.] As a hunter, I simply found no need for wearing it.
[He might be strikingly beautiful, but he thinks it looks better on pretty girls anyway. He is too much of a monster.]
What were you before you were a mercenary?
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[ As a child he'd been hired for assassination work because no one expected children. He'd run with a group of thieves who, like himself, had few options. When these were not enough, he'd stooped to the sort of work his mother had done before he was born, for her health was too poor for any sort of work.
After all that struggle, he became the "Underground Lord", no longer needing to bend to others' whims. He became capable of monetarily supporting those in need... But that all changed when the
fire nationEmpire attacked. ]But the short version's a crime boss. [ He shrugs, but his focus on his work doesn't slack. ] You do what's necessary to survive, yeah?
[ Things a man talks about casually while doing another, even prettier man's makeup... Yuri's an efficient worker, though he finds more effort is required to alter already striking features. Still, he thinks himself apt to the task. ]
And people in need don't much care where that gold comes from.
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Crime boss isn't the career D would want for Yuri, and yet, he cannot disagree with the need for humans to do whatever it takes to live.]
Mm.
[Hopefully Set does not see them, or D might look even more like Anubis than Set already believes in delusion.]
Are your happier now that you are a mercenary with a group than you were as a crime boss?
[Just curious.]
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Really, it's more like I'm pulling double duty. Can't afford to stop being one just because I'm the other now.
[ It's the unfortunate truth of a war-torn world. But Yuri had committed himself to seeing to his peoples' needs, whatever that required of him. He has had to do worse, only to achieve less, so he wouldn't complain about it. ]
Came with the addition of a knight I know chasing me around lecturing me, for whatever that's worth.
[ The words come with a wry quirk of his lips. It's a brief thing and it flickers away quickly as he passes brushes to one hand so he can pull out a compact with the other. Sure, D could get up and go to the mirror, but this is more convenient. ]
Alright, have a look.
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[It doesn't sound like he's judging Yuri for it. It isn't as if he can stop being a dhampir just because he's a vampire hunter. Not that Yuri's profession is also his species.
His eyes lift. He watches the wry smirk appear and vanish, and then he lifts his eyes higher. Friend...? Carefully, D takes the compact in his long, pale fingers. It'd be funny if this is where Yuri found out he has no reflection, but luckily, he does have one. Perks of having some human blood maybe.
He turns the compact left and right a bit, looking at himself. He does not like doing it. He feels too... arrogant in the simple act of witnessing himself, knowing he is different, removed from normalcy, knowing the simple truth he is indeed more beautiful than regular humans. Not by his own choice.]
You're very good at doing this.
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[ As a small child, he'd liked playing with his mother's cosmetics. He liked resembling her and still does. Taking after her is something Yuri both takes pride in and is grateful for. From a slightly older age onward, however, makeup had taken on a very different meaning for him.
It's become so much the face he presents the world that his own true features are a more effective disguise. His unvarnished features are better than any mask he could buy — simply because no one ever sees him without it. The difference isn't drastic, but it's just enough.
D numbers among a small handful of people who have actually seen him this way. ]
Surprised you never seem to use any, though I guess you don't need it.
[ He shrugs, expecting he hasn't said anything D doesn't already know. ]