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

THE SOOT OF IGNORANCE: RISING ACTION


BETWEEN UNCONTROLLED ESCALATION & UNENDING PASSIVITY
The moonlit city of Highstorm has always been a tranquil location.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Upon awakening from the mass dream-become-nightmare, Shard-bearers will slowly become aware of the exacerbation of previous events that have been persisting since October. These events are no longer subtle, and will impact everyone regardless of faction allegiance, with purposefully targeted strikes:
— Darkness has spread within Springstar. Wherever there is shadow cast by person, object or building, it has deepened, darkened, and grown in size. Walking through any shadowed area or touching a darkened shadow will fill a Shard-bearer who enters that area with feelings of dread, of something lingering just out of sight, of danger prickling along their spine, and entice them to run and flee. If they are not quick enough, an unseen entity savages them — aiming directly for wherever their Shard is hidden and held. They are being hunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What can we expect next?

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

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

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

And as always!

Questions can be directed here!

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

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

CODING
gravings: (120b)

wildcard

[personal profile] gravings 2024-02-14 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Silco has said his piece -- much more than a single piece -- over Communion. He's shattered Quetzalcoatl's Shard. Just a few more elements of chaos on top of an already chaotic day. The citizens are under attack, the chain of command in disarray.

In the middle of all this, Gray's mind is crystal clear.

She doesn't need to be a detective to guess where Silco might be headed. He's notoriously entrenched in Kowloon, and it will be the safest place for him after he's purposefully provoked Meridian. And once he gets there, he'll be nearly impossible to reach; Kowloon is the source of the invaders currently streaming into Springstar, after all. It's now or never. The seconds tick as booms in Gray's head as she pushes to intercept Silco at all speed, her Dragon Core generating energy at a full roar.

And then, she spots him. She leaps high and hard at a distance, a bow forming in her hand, complete with arrow. As gravity closes the space between them, she takes aim. Fires.

She's no William Tell, but she'll be satisfied with anything that will slow Silco down. Without waiting to see the result of her shot, the bow reforms again into a large scythe, the hard curve of its blade gleaming in the sunlight.

She doesn't intend to explain herself or hear what he has to say. Her scythe is swinging as she falls on him, doing the talking for her. ]
zauneyete: (angry rat man)

[personal profile] zauneyete 2024-02-16 07:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ His mind is buzzing, pulsing, throbbing from panic. He'd lived. He'd lived, and for what? For what had he lived for?

His shaking fingers had barely managed to find the cornerstone to retreat from Highstorm after his fingers had been too worn and too exhausted from fighting through dirt and stone and scrap metal, shreds of fabric and other items of no consequence. It had been. Of no consequence. Everything he'd dug out, from the small metal ball that survived somehow clasped between his scarred fingers, to wrench it out, his heart beating so hard it was practically in his chest, only to find it was just a metal ball. No shards.

His hands are stained and scarred. He would appreciate the irony of returning to what could be called his roots, if it weren't for the fact that his brain was on fire, an agitated, scrambled mess, his thoughts spiraling over and over and over again. The cornerstone landed him in Kowloon, and he could feel it, the mess of his discord spilling over.

Electric-neon liquid dripped from the spaces in one of his grayed hands, where the flesh had split with cuts, and was starting to peel back, leaving exposed muscle and bone. The junction of the grafted limb was dripping more of that shimmer-like fluid, and it's only because he looked up, his head turning toward Ryad from this outpost, that he saw the flicker of metal, and he moved.

He's faster than he once was, and the scythe falls onto the side of the small outpost's walls, and Silco took several steps back — why did he care? What was the point? — as his feet skittered back and away.

Gray.

Hm.

It would not make him feel better, for his loss. Was she gone for good? Was his daughter shattered and never to return? He could feel the skin around the scar on his face ache, and start to peel away, before he pulled a knife out from a holster at his back.

It was stained with blood. Gray could probably guess who's.

He doesn't even talk — could he, in this state? — he only lashed out, fast, looking to flay a pound of flesh from Meridian now that he knew what they had taken from him. (delusional)
]
gravings: (117)

[personal profile] gravings 2024-02-20 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ No hit yet, no problem. The signs of darkened blood on Silco's knife only whet Gray's focus as she twists away from it, its blade cutting slits into her billowing cloak and a nick into her torso. He looks worse for the wear -- and though she has every bit of sympathy for the citizens of Highstorm suddenly suffering a catastrophic attack on their city, Silco is the one Zenite she has no space in her heart for. If he's suffering from Discord, then she imagines he's brought it on himself.

Her nimble feet measure a distance between herself and Silco, using the greater range of her scythe to her advantage. As she dances away from his knife, her scythe licks out with improbable speed for its size at the bits of Silco that happen to offer themselves forward: his hand, his head, his legs. And though she isn't accustomed to taking the lives of living people, her hands don't hesitate at the potential of it now. ]
zauneyete: (i took this guy's knife)

cw: mild body horror

[personal profile] zauneyete 2024-03-05 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ What saves him is the fact that he no longer is just a man. He seems to zip backwards as fast as any superpowered being, though his thigh gets clipped by the scythe and there's the slight rip and shred, the sound of cloth tearing, and a line of blood starts to soak into the area around it. His fist clenched, but the hiss isn't one of pain, but surprise, because Silco was still half-mad, and angry, and he wanted to hurt.

He pulled one of his other knives, and threw it at Gray, with a quick snap of his wrist, aiming for her throat, though he didn't expect he'd hit her. No, he followed up by diving close again, to get in through the distance her scythe offered, a twitch of his lips and a glint of fang.
]

The first one looking for revenge, hm?

[ He hissed out as he managed to draw close, as if he was still calm, even while everything about the man said that he was anything but. Close, Gray could see the glint of electric neon purple that leaked out of his wounds clearer — around his eye, like it was still a raw, seeping wound — and he flipped his knife to a reverse guard, before he tried to lunge closer, though he wasn't trying to kill, he was trying to draw it out.

He wanted to make all of them hurt, after all.
]
gravings: (116)

[personal profile] gravings 2024-03-11 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ His speed is unexpected, but it explains some of how he would have been able to obtain the Shard of a Servant -- a god -- as formidable as Quetzalcoatl.

Knives are easier to deflect than bullets, and it's simple for Gray to slap the thrown knife away with a whip of her scythe, an almost absent-minded motion as her eyes remain fixed on Silco. His nearly demented appearance makes things easier for her; easier to think of him as a ghoul overstaying its time among the living.

She darts aside from his lunge with improbable speed, lashing out at him again as he passes. She grinds a response out from her throat. ]


Miss Quetzalcoatl doesn't need me avenging her.

[ Servants aren't technically alive; as attached as Gray has become to some of them, she's well aware that there's no point in grieving for them in a traditional sense. ]

... But you'll only do the same thing again, to someone else. So--!

[ Mana courses through her limbs, driving her muscles like an industrial engine. Her strikes quicken, ripping through space with increasing violence as she drives at Silco. ]
zauneyete: (full on rant)

[personal profile] zauneyete 2024-03-19 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ He wants nothing more than to just force a number of shimmered onlookers between them, and step into the shadows, to continue his rampage, warring against the world, but there's nobody here at the moment, which means that Silco is... on his own. Something that normally he would be perfectly happy with, but right now? As he slides out from the first laugh of her weapon, his eye narrowed.

He doesn't have time to fight her. Now when he wants to rip Springstar down from the foundations. Not when he wants to end it and tear it apart personally for the crime of —
]

You're right.

[ He hissed, but he didn't stay static, but instead teleported behind Gray, far and away from her with one of his spells. He rolled a shoulder from his space away, and held a finger to his knife, but this time he didn't move. ]

I want you all to die. I don't care about your worlds. [ The knife began to glow, white hot from the effort of pouring his magic into it. ] Nothing about them is good enough to revive. You should have nothing. Just like the rest of us.

[ Because... he was starting to realize, he had nothing.

She was gone.

The discord in him left a trail of dripping violet liquid, and he could feel it threatening to overtake him. It was only iron will, and Zenith's chill that kept him from falling fully into impulse and hate. He only stepped to the side, like a beast circling another.
]

I will take everything from you. All of you.

Did you not get that?

[ Would she try to push forward again? He waited, dripping shimmer and open wounds obvious and peeling. Her assessment that he was almost a ghoul was right, after all. At this point he could only think of himself as a dead man walking, exacting revenge as a death knell. ]