event: a gentle explosion

[thestewards]

I see a world just out of reach
With shoulders of giants at my feet
There’s not a challenge I’m afraid to meet

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

STRANGERS IN A STRANGE LAND
You wake, warm and comfortable, and realize that you’re no longer where you were when you went to sleep. The dream was real. As you clamber out of bed and open your door, an impassive footman greets you and leads you to breakfast in a large hall filled with many, many people. They sit around a hodgepodge of tables in a mishmash of furniture—nothing matches anything else, and no two chairs are the same.

The woman from your dream catches your eyes. She stares at you with open shock. “Well,” she says, as a number of males turn to her with withering looks. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She smiles at you. “Welcome to Draega, Stranger. Please, join us.”

Join them at the table and have your breakfast, Stranger. There isn’t much to offer: porridge, water, a bit of milk, some wrinkled fruits, and bread. Coffee, thankfully, is not in short supply. Meet your fellow Strangers, both the ones choosing to live at the Queen’s Residence and those who arrived in the night with you.

As breakfast draws to a close, the Queen’s Steward, Prince Loren Sorey, explains that you may choose to find your own home or stay in the residence for as long as you please. Those who stay will receive a modest stipend but are required to participate in Allairavar’s morning trainings every day. At dawn. Before breakfast. Those who go will need to find their own homes among the ruined buildings of the city and make their own money.

The court begins filtering out of the Great Hall, dispersing to attend their many duties. Linger, Stranger, and overhear…

“What did you mean?” The man leaning over the Queen is Prince Allairavar. His membranous wings flare around him, and his expression is menacing. “This wasn’t supposed to happen?”

Queen Fayura doesn’t look at all alarmed by the massive man caging her against a wall. “It was a one-time spell,” she says. “The web was—” Her eyes go wide. “I need to go look at the web.” She ducks under Allairavar’s arm, which could put a tree trunk to shame, really, grabs Prince Verim, and drags him from the hall.

Allairavar bares his teeth at the wall and snarls. The sound rumbles through the room, and dark temper washes briefly through the residence before all the tangled webs tucked in corners absorb it, leaving the building peaceful and clean of psychic feeling once more.

A TALE OF TWO IDEALS
At exactly 5:46pm, an explosion rocks the city of Draega. Black clouds belch fire to the northwest of the city. Concurrently, in Old Town, a mob of landens armed with Breakers and Muters descends on The Last Meal. They surround an older, Blood woman.

i. Black Out
The power plant maintained by the Tinkers and the Elektrics has exploded. Across Draega, e-line appliances shut down and the city plunges into darkness—the sun set some 45 minutes ago.

Prince Loren reaches out to approximately half the Strangers, asking them to go to the power plant. He shares a mental map with them so they know how to reach the building, as well as the Craft used for air-walking. The tutorial is quick and hardly complete, but now you’ll be able to run above the city to reach your destination.

The power plant burns. Black smoke pours into the air. Master Elektric Doriah organizes the Tinkers and Elektrics who were able to escape on their own. A quick glance reveals how absolutely exhausted she is. When Strangers approach, she sneers but isn’t about to turn away good help.

“There are still people inside. The Blood who did this trapped us in shields.” She hesitates only a moment before collecting Breakers from guildmembers carrying them. “Take these. Your Jewel may not be able to break through the shields.”

Inside, well-ordered building is a mess of fire and melting steel. Airwalking protects your feet, and shields can keep out the heat, but you’ll need something more to protect your lungs. Put out fires, stop systems from overloading, save the machines from complete destruction, and rescue missing workers who are suffocating and cooking inside shields. The guildmembers trapped in the power plant will assist the Strangers who free them, helping mitigate the damage done to the plant and keep it from exploding the rest of the way.

ii. Death of a Councilwoman
Councilwoman Vera enjoys dinners at The Last Meal, and this is well known by everyone in the city. Today, public knowledge of her schedule doesn’t work so well in her favor.

As she approaches the restaurant with her family, a group of landens descends on them. Muters prevent the Blood from taking any action that isn’t purely physical, and this is enough to throw most of them off their stride; they’re used to relying on Craft to fight. The landens separate Vera from her family in a short-lived brawl. She shouts and screams—“Let me go! Don’t you know who I am? The Queen will have you executed for this! Your families will be thrown out of the city! You’re making a mis—”

A shot rings through the air.

The landens peel away from one of their own, a young man gripping a Breaker in both hands. He trembles as he stands over Councilwoman Vera, whose expression is frozen forever in shocked disbelief. Her body crumples to the ground, blood from a gunshot wound on her chest staining the white fabric of her blouse.

In the silence that follows the shot, Allairavar shoves free of the crowd. “Go home!” he snarled, Craft powering his voice.

No one moves.

Except the young landen man. He takes off at a run, and the crowd is still too horrified to do much to stop him. Allairavar wastes no time. He plunges after the young man. At the same time, he reaches out to the minds of the Strangers closest to Old Town. *The Ebon Council is, collectively, a sack of reeking shit, and Lady Vera was a bitch,* Allairavar tells the Strangers. *But if we don’t get between the Blood and the landens, we’ll have another war. We can’t afford another war. Keep them from killing each other while I deal with this idiot.*


AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you’re spinning the dial on your own device, you’ll hear…

the news
…angered local landen families by her hard-line position that Blood homes should receive priority as the city continues to recover from the fires set by the Hunter Guild last month. [The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.]

Councilwoman Vera is known for her vocal disdain for the landen Guilds, isn’t that right, Garret? [Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.]

[Garret:] Correct, Wilt. She—excuse the interruption, but we are just now hearing— [The feed abruptly cuts off. Static pours from the Far-caster regardless of what local channel it is tuned to.]

Comments

[sunborne]

i;; like a sore thumb.

[ everything is (more) awkward the moment daylight steps into the hall.

attendants look up and up and up and courtiers begin to whisper, a lot of eyes following the red-and-gold mechanoid who looks like he would rather be anywhere else but is doing his best to keep a cheerful smile on his face. he waves to a few people who stare at him and doesn't seem to mind that most do not wave back.

is he used to this sort of reaction...? er, perhaps it doesn't matter since it looks like he'll be sitting at your character's table for the meal. watch out for his limbs and wings!

when the predicament of maneuvering has been settled, daylight is given little - emphasis on little - more for breakfast due to his size and height when he (tries) to sit down at a table, giving it his all to not whack into someone with his limbs or wings if he fidgets. he politely says thanks for his meal before he turns to stare at it, uncertainty written across his expression while he takes stock of what's in front of him. ]

Um... Do you want this? [ he pushes his share of fruits and milk towards his closest eating companion, trying to be sneaky about it. ] I can't eat any of this stuff except maybe the porridge.

[ maybe the porridge. he isn't sure how filtered it is. he's hoping. ]

ii;; when there's smoke.

[ when evening approached, the most daylight expected was him getting into an awkward talk of what he could do for work here since he didn't want to stay in the residence. he certainly didn't think he'll be part of a search-and-rescue effort in the take of someone blowing up a power plant.

he remembers auntie laura talking about these sort of things happening for nodice. he remembers her talking about the chaos, the heat, the screaming from all sides as people pleaded for help, shouted for direction, and warned for danger.

hearing someone talking about it and experiencing it firsthand are two very different things.

daylight is a little rattled as he enters the mayhem, trying his best to help by pushing large patches of debris and ruins out of the way so others have a better time. he tries to remind himself that this is like scouting but in an extreme environment. move ahead of the others. use something to signal what's a safe path and what's a dangerous path - thank goodness for those pastels he bought, he thinks while scribbling white checkmarks and red xs on what were once hallways and rooms -and communicate with those he runs across once they stop screaming at the sight of him.

when he sees someone is up ahead of him, he recognises them from the hall during breakfast. he scrambles to catch up with them, shouting over the roar of fires and screams in the air. ]

Do you need a hand? [ cough cough! this cloth around his mouth isn't useful, but it'll have to do until his adaption system kicks in proper. ] Hey-! Do you need help? I'm friendly?

[ can they even hear him? maybe he shouldn't be emerging from the smokes with his arc gun at the ready, but daylight isn't taking any chances. he only hopes him keeping one hand raised in the air shows he isn't going to hurt anyone. ]

iii;; crowd control.

[ when daylight finally gets to the last meal where he heard someone had died and there was a riot about to spill over, he isn't in the best of moods.

he's tired. he's cranky. he's got soot and debris wedged in panels he doesn't even want to think of but- he's here and he still wants to help somehow. even if it's mostly to provide muscle if the situation calls for it. ]

Is everything okay here? [ daylight does his best to appear non threatening at possible when approaching someone else he recognises from the hall during breakfast. he winces when he realises he smells like soot and ash and something far less pleasant now that he's in the open air of this place.

hoping no one else notices, daylight tries to roll with the punches and tries to figure out what he can do. it seems he's arrived as situation is winding down for the most part. some look angry and itching for a fight, yeah, but everyone else is backing off and heading back home with loved ones. ] I hope you and the others were alright. Sorry I couldn't come earlier. The power plant- It was a mess.

Um... Do you need anything to be done? Because I can- Ow! [ did someone just- who hit him with a rock?! ]

iv;;; wildcard!!

[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. ]

it's time for rescue pals

[illequipped]

[Of all things to happen this suddenly in their, uh, stay here, a building exploding is the last thing Emil expects. This is a city, isn't it, and cities are safe— things like explosions and large-scale violence just don't happen in cities. But this city is bigger than any he's ever known (which is mildly intimidating all on its own, without the violence) which means... he shouldn't be surprised?

He really has no idea. Either way: a building exploded, and if he has a modicum of experience in anything, it's that. Accidents happen- or at least, work accidents happen at home, and he's seen his fair share, so for once he's all business when a group of them are sent off toward the site for some heroic rescuing.

Does he handle the air-walking well at all? No, he nearly dies at least four times, but once he's on the ground again his composure slowly trickles back in. That's where he is when Daylight approaches to offer help; just a mite frazzled still, but not so much that he won't press forward into the fray. He's definitely memorable as a champion tier complainer from breakfast time, so the boldness with which he's marching into a burning building might be a surprise, but the way he immediately fumbles and nearly trips when he turns and sees The Big Metal Man(tm)? Less so.

This answers Emil's first question, which is "did I hallucinate a metal man this morning??" Good to know.]

Uh— what? [He fiddles with his own last-minute mouth mask, clearly uncertain. At least he's not screaming??] Uhhhhh... Hmm.

What are you going to do, throw me over the fire?

ii.

[whitfeet]

( Daisy had only meant to explore the town local area. Get to know the terrain. Familiarize herself with local vendors and roads. She had just wanted to get to know the new 'home' she now found herself in.

even a walk seems to be asking too much.

she stands outside the burning plant, hesitating for a moment whether this was really something she could help with or not. her skills were better suited towards killing. search and rescue... not quite as much. but when she sees there are not only people still inside, but hears that the Blood trapped them...

she sighs heavily and takes one of the breakers.

once inside, the smoke burns at her eyes. she pulls the hood she had fashioned into a mask higher up to try to protect her eyes as much as she can. she still needs to see, however. she squints her eyes against the rest and uses her small height to her advantage to climb into spots that most might not be able to reach.

the fire is so loud around her ears she nearly misses the sound of the other man. she doesn't miss his size. he stands out in a crowd, nearly two sizes taller than her.

she stops behind some debris, looking up at him before cupping her hands to her mouth and calling out loudly over the fire. )

If you can get over here! I can't carry anyone out if their hurt!

iii.

[unwieldy]

[ Dealing with an angry crowd has tested Haein's patience to its limit, and while he may not be covered in soot and ash, he certainly looks disheveled and very much like he's been shoved this way and that while trying to keep the two sides from ripping at each other's throats.

He'd agreed to come to this place with the single-minded purpose of getting what was agreed upon and then leaving, but every day that he spends here is just a reminder of how much disgust and contempt he holds for people. Had it been up to him, Haein would have let these people run wild and destroy one another.

But it's not his call, and so he grits his teeth and works through separating the heated mob.

It's when Daylight appears that he stops for a moment, expression plainly showcasing his surprise. Haein has... never seen anything like... whatever Daylight is. Before he can reply, the rock comes sailing in and connects. ]

—Hey! [ He rarely raises his voice, but he's truly frazzled here. The man who had thrown the rock sneers, then bolts, and Haein watches him go with a scowl on his face before turning back to Daylight, his surprise morphing into wariness. ] You're a hard target to miss.

i

[verstoned]

[Giant thinking machinae aren't so awkward to Rhus at all, though he did have to eye the moving machine man in case of a threat... but then again, after having to deal with the primal Alexander and the other robots within it, and even the clockwork Construct 7 just recently before arriving here, the Miqo'te is more or less unfazed by someone like him.

Though the orange robot walker is rather more articulate, on the level of Alexander.

That's why he takes a seat close, and why he doesn't react out of shock that he's being spoken to-- though his tail does twitch a little in surprise when he sees the fruit and milk being offered his way.]

Thanks. ... Don' they have anythin' for yourself? [His ears wiggle as he sniffs at the milk-- no two glasses are the same, and he wants to make sure this one hasn't gone bad.

Or has any sort of poison or potion.]

ii

[kesi]

[Unfortunately for Daylight, all this Au Ra saw emerging from the smoke was what he assumed automatically to be something hostile with large, heavy steps only reminding him of the Magitek Vanguards of his home. Even worse once Takame sees him come out from the smoke armed.

He registered Daylight immediately as an enemy about to bring harm to people already fighting for their lives, causing him to quick draw his blade and charge forward at the assumed threat.

His inhibited Gyoten was a blessing for Daylight, for it's only due to the limited range Takame could reach that he wasn't just relieved of his leg. Not for lack of trying as he still raised his blade for a downward slice to close that distance. It was only then that he saw the raised hand signaling an ally as well as sensed the Jewel he possessed.]

... What? [Of course it had yet to fully click so he didn't lower his weapon.]

[yesterweek]

a. STRANGERS IN A STRANGE LAND

[ This whole thing still feels like part of an elaborate dream to Calvin. As he walks towards the dinning room he's subtly pinching at the skin around his palm. No good, he can feel the pain, and it doesn't seem to be jolting him awake. He knows there's a number of other things you're supposedly not able to do in a dream, but he'll be damned if he can remember what those are.

So instead of running through the "am I dreaming?" checklist, he takes his spot at the table and eats in silence as he tries to take in the scene around him, and listen in on whatever conversation he can.

That includes that little exchange at the end of the meal between the Queen and Allairavar. Nothing about Allairavar's demeanor makes Calvin feel like he really wants to get close during the conversation, but he does want some answers from the woman he thought brought him here in the first place.

So when she sweeps off with Verim, Calvin takes off after her.

Only by the time he makes his way across the dinning hall and into the hallway proper, the Queen isn't anywhere in sight. That leaves a confused teenager standing there looking completely lost as he glances around, and tries to decide which way to go. ]

B. BLACK OUT

i. arriving on the scene

[ Prince Loren is kind enough to provide everyone a useful tutorial to teach them air-walking, and Calvin, newly powered (and barely at that) mess that he is has given up pretty quickly on getting the magic right. There were a few cursory attempts made as he charged down the streets, but they were eventually deemed useless distractions, and promptly abandoned.

That means when he arrives on the scene he's taken the long way to get there, is now panting heavily, and is doubled over a short distance away from the gathering.

Give him a second. Hold on... ]

ii. actually doing some saving

[ The condition of the plant's floor means that Calvin is unable to pass on learning that hastily taught spell any longer. It's a little wobbly, but he is in the air now, a torn and soaked shirt sleeve pressed over his nose and mouth as he makes his way deeper into the building, to see if he can find anyone to help.

He arrived late on the scene, and some of the fire seems to have been put out, and the people closest to the front rescued. That means he has to travel in deeper to find the remaining survivors, with a Breaker in his free hand, because there's no way his White jewel is going to do the job of breaking those shields. ]

strangers in a strange land

[theladyofwinterfell]

( Sansa, too, had thought to follow the Queen and her steward along the corridor and is disappointed when she makes a wrong turn and ends up losing them. She does run into someone who looks just as stunned as she, though, and Sansa makes a quick curtsy on the off chance he's part of the Court; she doesn't know the rules quite yet but she definitely wants to keep from making any enemies. )

It seems I lost them. I was trying to hear what was happening and I turned the wrong way, I think.

wildcard!

[unwieldy]

[ It's been a couple of days after the explosion and the assassination and Haein is feeling restless. He'd already been under the impression that the city was a shithole and its people an even bigger mess, but the past events have really driven that point home. He thought he could ignore the issues, detach himself and his personal feelings from them as he worked to further his own goals, but things don't seem to be working out that way.

He needs to distance himself from it for a bit, stay away from the city, which is why he's sticking to the Queen's Residence.

And... it's porridge again for breakfast. Wonderful. Haein might not have complained the past few days, but this is killing his appetite.

Best to make it someone else's problem. He's not in the habit of wasting food, so he takes the bowl and shoves it off to the person next to him without looking to see who it is. Surely they'll want it instead. ]

[thricefold]

i;; strangers in an almost familiar land.

[ ah. there are more faces than she's used to seeing when she arrives in the hall. she's a tad tardy since she had spent more time mending her clothes and, now, she wishes she had hurried to the hall to grab a seat for herself.

the hall is bustling with people trying to get both breakfast and seats and zita is a little- overwhelmed by all the activity here. the times she remembers she's no longer in the carnival still happen and when they do? it's almost like a brick in the face.

now awkward and unsure, she drifts to the closest table in hopes of finding somewhere to sit down. she does her best to look harmless and friendly, waving to the first one who looks up and accidentally catches her eye. ]

Hello! I'm sorry but is this seat taken?

ii;;; lend your ears.

Oh no...

[ to say zita is scared by what's happen is an understatement: the shot is still ringing in her ears and she knows she has to keep moving forward.

people are now shouting at each other: hurling accusations and insults, threats and promises of retribution. family of councilwoman vera surround her body, trying to block her corpse from being gawked at by onlookers. some individuals in the crowd are being held back by friends or family, looking like they'll launch themselves at whoever they're arguing with at any second. some are just trying to get out of the chaos and they are the ones who make zita's hearts hurt for the most. they look scared and desperate and, most of all, confused. like they hadn't expected any of this and want nothing more but for it to stop.

perhaps that's why zita immediately shoves herself in the middle of two warring groups in the last meal, raising her arms up in an attempt to push the groups apart. these are the ones she can tell are closest to breaking out into an actual fight so they need to be addressed first.

her heart is racing and she looks terrified but she's done this before. she's had to talk people down and keep disagreements from escalating into violence so she can do this. she tells herself as much while using the group's surprise of her presence to her advantage: ]

I apologise for stepping in so boldly but— Please, may I beg you all to think of those who are around us? We are in a public place. Innocents are here, trying to not get hurt. Children and their parents. Partners and their loved ones. Please think of them before we go on.

[ she looks around while the groups seemingly take in her words. can someone step in and help her...? ]

iii;;; she’s got the touch.

[ by the time she arrives at the power plant, it’s already winding down. she isn't sure what exactly happened or how many soul were saved from a grisly fate, but she can tell that the night is not yet over in regards to his. there's still chaos and strife and confusion in the crowds and in the air. there's also, most importantly, injured civilians who need help.

so zita helps out in the aftermath. some healing stations have already been set up by healers and members of the medico who arrived to the scene and zita, with the help and permission from the head healer who is running the show, is allowed to make her own station to treat anyone who is still waiting for treatment.

soon she finds herself comfortable busy. her healing powers are in great demand as wounded are shuffled to her direction. she does all she can to treat what's before her - cuts and bruises, broken builds and torn flesh - but she noticeably struggles in healing burn wounds. it takes her longer to mend those and when she pulls back, there's still signs of recovery needed and she looks exhausted.

for these, she turns to the help of others to avoid the risk of burnout. the second she sees someone lingering near her station, she calls out to them: ] Excuse me—! Can you please help the man on the stretcher there? He needs someone to treat his burns soon as possible.

[ she frantically gestures to an older man who, judging by his age and uniform, is one of the line managers who was saved from the power plant. he's groaning, shifting his heavily bandaged body on the stretcher for some measure of comfort. with his eyes forced shut by the black eyes he sports, he needs the help of anyone and everyone around him just to get through the night. ]

iv;;; wildcard!!

[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. ]

strangers in an almost familiar land.

[yesterweek]

[ Calvin is honestly kind of zoned out right now. Considering he's one of the new arrivals he really should be paying more attention to what's going on around him, but it's hard when his mind is racing in twenty directions at once the way it is.

He's looking a bit stupefied when his gaze trails across to where Zita is standing, and his thoughts jump back to the present as she asks that question. ]

No. What? No! It's not.

[ He'll even scramble to pull it out for her. Half politeness, half awkward bumbling, because wow she's gorgeous. ]

mostly iv but with some of iii as well, let me know if this doesn't work!

[arrogator]

[She's never had to deal with something like the plant, and honestly hopes she doesn't have to again. In that same train of thought, she's going to tell herself she did fine and wasn't in any trouble, but she certainly looks like it was closer than she'd like it to be. Her hair's matted with blood and soot, her armor's singed and blackened, there's even a few cracks in it. And that's hiding assorted injuries under it, bruises and cuts and other things acquired from charging in there.

So at some point, she's definitely going to need to stagger over to one of the healer tents. She's not as high priority as the stretcher guy, and knows it, so she's not going to make a huge fuss about waiting for a healer.]

...what a mess.

[She sighs while waiting, wincing a little. Cracked rib, maybe. She's not sure and trying not to think of it. Of course, she also has no idea how bad everything is because she headed here once the explosion happened and hasn't heard about what else has happened today.]

leo valdez | ota

[mekhanikos]

— BLACKOUT.

i. gimme a breaker!

[ there's a certain irony in the fact that the two big disasters he has to deal here both have to do with fire. your abilities are an asset, the queen had told him, and hey, if everything is constantly on fire in draega, he's starting to see why.

the air-walking is easy enough to get a hang of, for someone who's preferred method of travel is flying on a mechanical dragon, but when he makes it to the power plant and actually looks at it? the fire and damage would be enough, but leo looks, sees the difference in temperatures inside the plant, sees the shields as they keep out some of the heat, sees the people inside them.

it's mildly nauseating, and more than mildly horrifying. ] How could anyone —

[ a breath, then another. he turns, quickly, to get one of the breakers, because his jewel isn't strong enough for some of the shields. and then he runs, straight into the plant, no air-walking in sight. ]

Come on, what are you waiting for? [ he yells to whoever is closest. no time to spare, right?

so come with him, air-walking or otherwise, or maybe just question why he doesn't even seem to consider taking any precautions against the fire. ]

ii. smash and burn.

[ after an hour or so, leo's entire body seems to be smoking, and the amount of fire he's absobed lights up his skin from within, the rippling effect of flames that illuminate his veins and bones making for a somewhat creepy effect.

still, as he walks, the flames die out around him. he has a steady course: a green shield ahead. only, with an opal and the breaker, he's not entirely sure he's cut out for smashing the shield to bits, and so, as soon as he hears (or sees) someone else nearby, he shouts, ]

Hey, some assistance, maybe? [ the quicker they do this, the quicker they can get to saving others. ]

iii. hot stuff.

[ after some time, leo decides his talents are better used for trying to save pieces of the plant, fixing anything and everything he comes across that isn't a melted pile of incredibly hot goo.

but even that, he can only do for so long. he's held more fire than this before, but given that the last time he did so ended up in him blowing up not only a crazy goddess but also himself, he's not exactly eager to go through that again.

which is why he finds his way back to the entrance, stumbles away from the plant and the people outside it, far enough that when he releases all the fire, it burns in a column up, up, up, like an endlessly bright beacon. ]

Okay, [ mutters leo, no longer glowing but instead covered in soot, ] that'll do it.

[ and then he turns to go straight back to the plant. ]

— TWO DAYS LATER.

iv. sleep is for losers.

[ for the next day, day and a half, it's like leo valdez has suddenly dropped off the face of draega. he's nowhere to be found — mostly because he's still in the plant, fixing it with the landen guildmembers. because he can do it, because he's really good at it. only, he wasn't counting on master doriah's breakneck pace, leaving no room for breaks or sleep...

which is also why, when he finally stumbles out of the plant, the power back on in the city, he promptly forgets he could go back to the house he shares with percy and jason, and instead heads to the queen's residence. he gets as far as halfway to the dining hall, and there on the hallway, simply sits down next to the wall and falls asleep.

(yes, there's still soot in his face and hair, his hands are covered in oil, and every other breath he mutters something that sounds like mathematical formulas. he's in need of food, probably some healing, and a solid twenty-four hours of sleep... but probably not here.) ]

v. unfortunate naming choices.

[ ( a. ) it's a slightly more awake leo that sits in the dining hall, poking the porridge on his plate back and forth. it tastes like absolutely nothing, and he's half tempted to set up an impromptu barbecuing station right here. ]

Ugh, this is terrible, isn't it? It's like someone made porridge and then just, I dunno, bundled everything that "taste" is and threw it away.

[ ( b. ) he also listens to what he apparently missed while holed up in the power plant. when someone nearby talks about councilwoman vera's death, leo grimaces, but what he mostly pays attention to is... ]

Wait, she was going to eat in a place called The Last Meal? [ oh man, talk about irony. ] Maybe they should change the name, you know, into something less tragedy-inviting. The First Meal? The Mealtime of Awesomeness? The Sizzling Mealtime?

vi. wildcard.

[ hmu! if we planned to thread something that doesn't fall under the previous starters, feel free to just write up something suitable — or poke me on the ooc post or over on plurk @ celen and i'll write us something! ]

( prompt v. )

[thricefold]

Out of all the choices, I think the 'The First Meal' has the best shot of being considered for a renaming.

[ she can't help but think that perhaps one of her charges would have liked the other suggestions he made. without a doubt, teresia would have gotten a kick out of the last option.

after taking a bite out of her porridge - and quietly thankful there's not much taste to it, given how upset her stomach has been from the stress in the last few days - zita gives some more thought to what he said. ]

... Perhaps a renovation would be beneficial to the restaurant. Given what happened there. I can't help but feel like it might be avoided for a while and I'd hate for the business to suffer for actions outside of the staff's control.

sansa stark | ota

[theladyofwinterfell]

i. strangers in a strange land

( Sansa wakes the first morning in the Queen's residence with a bit of a headache and no idea how she wound up there. She vaguely remembers a dream in which she pledged her help in exchange for a favor with this foreign Queen but here she is now with only the faintest memories of actually striking the bargain. She's got a small room with what appears to be serviceable clothing so for now, she thinks she ought to just get dressed and find food and answers.

Food seems to be coming easier than answers for the moment so Sansa sits down for breakfast, eating politely if not daintily, and looks to make conversation with the person on her left. )

Did you dream of coming here too?

( Sansa isn't certain quite how much information to reveal so she leaves the question open-ended; if it seems a bit silly, she can just play it off as a girl fascinated by life in a Court. She's been that girl before. She can be that girl again if she must. )

***

ii. death of a councilwoman

( When exploring the city, Sansa doesn't expect to have a murder happen directly before her eyes. As someone who has seen death many times in her life and, on two memorable occasions, presided over executions, nothing prepares her for seeing random violence. It's always a shock to her, a dark mark against what should be a lovely world and her face goes a bit white. She freezes for want of something to do and it's only when Allairavar speaks to her with his mind that she galvanizes and starts to take action. Sansa sees that most of the people simply seem shocked or scared; this is something she's familiar with. When she speaks, she tries to cut her voice over the crowd. )

Please, please try to remain calm. Is there anyone else wounded? Sit with your family or friends while we all take account. It seems the culprit was alone and has fled alone.

***

iii. wildcard

( If you want to hit me with one of the other prompts or something new, send me a PM or surprise me! )

i.

[illequipped]

[To her left is Emil, currently grimacing at his breakfast. Like, he's going to eat it, but he's not going to enjoy it. He finally got to experience real, quality food again, and now he's back to what looks like bottom of the barrel rations... one step above eating soup that's fifty percent melted wax and wild squirrel...

But oh, okay- conversation is better than breakfast. He looks at her, uncertain for a moment about how to... make small talk... but okay!!]

Yes, but I didn't think I was signing a contract. Maybe I should have known better by now, but who thinks of that? Why can't a dream about being a hero just be a dream?

[He wants an answer!!]

Piper McLean | OTA

[inducings]

A. Strangers in a Strange Land
[ This wasn’t supposed to happen - not the most reassuring greeting Piper’s ever heard. She remembers saying yes, but her eyes are wide as she takes in the large hall and the mismatched furniture. (It’s like some weird… medieval… cafeteria?) Cafeterias have never been good places for her, and despite all she’s learned the past year, Piper’s shoulders curl in on themselves a little. She’s got a lot of practice at working to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, and old habits die hard. Her gaze flits around the room briefly, marking spots where potential trouble could come from (see them laughing over there? why are they laughing?) before it drops to the floor in front of her. Then she raises her head - accommodating them never made them stop -- and goes to get her serving of porridge. Feel free to:
1. Overhear her asking politely, “Excuse me - this is just oatmeal, right? I mean, there’s no meat in it?”
2. Standing beside you with her bowl of porridge and fruit, giving you a small smile, “Is this seat taken?”
3. Lingering. Definitely lingering to try and figure out how to approach the people who seem to be in charge here. ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen.’ Piper wants to find out more about that. Then she’s going to go off and explore the parts of the Queen’s Residence to which Strangers have access, trying to figure out this new environment. ]

B. Death of a Councilwoman
[ Piper was just barely getting used to this whole psychic thread thing - fortunately, ‘stop them from killing each other’ was a pretty clear directive, and she hurries to The Last Meal. When she arrives, the two sides have already swollen beyond the original witnesses to the scene, landen and Blood are intermingled in pockets, shouting and shoving - there’s so much anger and fear in the room, it’s oppressive.

What do they want? What can I use?

Revenge, justice, violence -- to feel safe again. To feel heard. She can work with that. Her glance meets another stranger who’s also trying to stand between the two fractions and she weaves a little bit of power into her voice, just enough to make sure when she speaks, she’ll have everyone’s attention. This situation is the sort where if it gets dire enough, Piper wouldn’t be above using Charmspeak to get them all to forcibly stop, go home, and cool off, but she knows it will be more permanent if she can get them to come to that conclusion on their own.

They don’t want to listen, they want to speak so-- ]

Please! [ And her Charmspeak enhanced word momentarily grabs everyone’s attention, but she’ll have to capitalize on that soon, and without Charmspeak if she doesn’t want those of the Blood who have a darker jewel than Opal to realize what’s going on. She leaves the power out of her words as she continues: Someone tell us what happened. A quick glance at the other Stranger. Piper doesn’t know what kind of justice system this world has and vows to find out as soon as possible, but she doesn’t want to lose her tenuous grasp on the ground by making an obvious (to them) misstep. ]

We’ll do all we can to help. We’ll make sure your voices are heard. But first we need one person at a time to tell us what happened.

[ ‘I’ll tell you what happened,’ a pale male member of the Blood spat out. ‘Those murdering bastards killed Coucilwoman Vera right in front of her family--’
‘She got what she deserved!’ screamed a landen female. ‘Our children are freezing at night while she dines in luxury!’

There are murmurs, but no weapons are drawn yet as the Blood male turns to the landen female - at least right now they’re talking. Piper glances at the other Stranger, wanting to give the crowd a chance to hear from someone other than her, hoping the Strange will back her up and help keep them talking. ]

C. A Random Assortment
[ Piper will be spending her first two weeks in the Queen’s Residence, but moving out shortly thereafter. As such, she’ll be easy to find 1) exploring the city, poking about at ruined houses 2) investigating the Guild Halls 3) getting really creeped out by the Ebon Council hall and deciding at the last minute not to go in there 4) attending early morning training sessions 5) practicing Craft in the garden (airwalking?? amazing??? how to.. get it… without falling on her face…) 6) researching at the library (she is not Annabeth, but this is how she was taught to prepare for a role from her father, and after receiving a tip from Prince Loren, she spends the better part of three days in there) 7) anywhere else, happy to write a prompt/roll with whatever, feel free to PM me or hit up my plurk @ somescribbles ]

time for Griping, or, A-2

[illequipped]

[Welcome... to the Worst Breakfast Ever Made by Man, at least as far as Emil is concerned. The bed he woke up in? Very nice! Very plush, much nicer than the carriage he fell asleep in last. But everything since then has been absolutely horrible, and he hasn't made much effort to pretend he thinks otherwise. He's sulking over his porridge, all elbows-on-the-table and mumbling to himself in a way that is definitely hoping someone will ask him to repeat himself. It's that kind of morning.

When Piper shows up at his table, he looks up from stirring some fruit pieces into his porridge like that will possibly make it more appetizing, blinks at her, then gestures at the seat across the table.]

If you want, go right ahead. [Barely a second passes before actually, he has more!!] Can you believe this? That woman asks us to come and then doesn't want us to be here? And that bodyguard of hers! I thought my skin was going to crawl off, the way he was— [He waves a hand, searching for a word for "magically polluting the psychic experience of this breakfast," which is not a concept he has any words for.] Well, you know! Really.

[ilves]

i. eat your wheaties

[Lalli wakes up relatively early, but he's somehow still one of the last few people to trickle in during this first breakfast, for... various reasons. It can take a while for even the most practical person to come to terms with all of this? He needs some time to himself, but once he finally makes his grand entrance (i.e. sneaks over to one of the open chairs), feel free to catch him:

a. Eyeing his porridge distrustfully as he pokes it with a spoon. He's not enthused about this meal at all? Even less so when he finally lifts the spoon to his lips and tries the tiniest bite. It's not bad; it's, you know, edible, especially compared to the things he's eaten these past few months, but something about the plain taste reminds him of... home. It's why he shoves it away with a sigh, forgoing food in order to look around at all of the strange people nearest to him. Tell him it gets better? Warn him that not eating now could have some serious consequences later? Fuss at him for rudely watching you while you eat? It's a choose your own adventure prompt.

b. Staring down at these mugs of muddy liquid through narrowed eyes, because coffee? What? It's a rare luxury in post-apocalyptic Finland, and he really can't help but to be curious about it; it's why he pours a cup for himself, gives it a sniff, and then takes a cautious sip.

...Oh, gods. He coughs, surprised by the bitterness, before stretching out to pour his mug of coffee right back into the carafe. SOS!!

c. Well, that was... quite the conversation to overhear! Lalli watches Queen Fayura leave, a small frown appearing on his face before he turns to see if anyone around him witnessed that curious exchange. Oh! You, too? Nice. He studies you for a moment before finally asking—]

...The web?

[Hwhat.]

ii. black out

[Picking his way through dangerous places is kind of Lalli's job? Granted, he's never spent much time running around burning buildings, but he's doing his best here. His stick-like build certainly helps; he's able to squeeze through cracks/crawl over debris piles that normal people might just shake their heads at, which means that he's often out of sight of his fellow Strangers. Maybe that's why you didn't see him? Why you're so incredibly surprised when a chunk of sheet metal off to the side of the "path" you're on suddenly begins to... move? Almost like something is pushing it.

Or, well, someone, because hello! When the piece of metal falls to floor, Lalli is standing there, furiously gesturing for you—yes, YOU—to follow him... back toward the flames.]

No! This way!

[Do you trust this soot-covered gremlin? He's very insistent...]

iii. issa wildcard

[I'm down for anything, y'all! Hit me up over at my plotting comment / at tuchanka if you want to discuss stuff!]

for horatio

[ilves]

[Following orders? Lalli's used to that. Lalli's good at that, which is why, after receiving that handy mental transmission from Prince Loren, he attempts to zip right over to the power plant. The earlier explosion was an unpleasant surprise; he's not eager to go charging headfirst into a dangerous situation, but, well... he's a Stranger now. If he wants to see his home again, he knows that he needs to do more than simply hide away in his room.

But running through the streets proves to be rather difficult, thanks to the throngs of curious/worried/horrified people milling about; he's little more than a fourth of the way there when he realizes that he needs to try this whole air-walking thing out, even though he's, you know, rather unsure about it. Climbing trees is one thing, but being high in the air without any support is—it's something else entirely! He's not a fan!

Desperate times, however, call for desperate measures. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he calls upon both his strange new magic and every piece of information Prince Loren sent his way. It's not... a graceful rise into the air? There are stumbles, times when his arms pinwheel desperately as he tries not to plunge twenty feet down below, but it doesn't take him terribly long to get the gist of it. In a way, it reminds him of the way a certain someone runs about the dreamscape: taking long, loping strides while ignoring everything below. It's all about finding that rhythm.

Which, uh, the figure in front of him is clearly having a difficult time with? Lalli watches this person—fellow Stranger?—clumsily try to hop through the sky, and he's almost convinced that he should just, like, leave them to their own devices. ...Almost, and yet, as he approaches passing distance, he finds himself leaping over to run alongside the man.]

What are you doing? Take bigger steps! [Stupid. He doesn't outright say it, but it's totally implied.] And don't look down.

[illequipped]

I. breakfast of champions

[Or, whiners, notably Emil. He loves the free new bed! Really digging that, actually! But the breakfast is terrible and he hates it, and he also hates the very thought of waking up before breakfast to train and then not getting any good breakfast.

You may find him:

a. trying to trade literally any part of this breakfast for more fruit pieces, because they might look gross but at least they have some flavor, OR

b. scrutinizing the Important People having their important discussion before hastily leaving the room. He must be concerned about it, you would think, and he is, but not for any good or sensible reason. No, of course not. He'll lean over to whoever's next to him after he goes and ask,]

They're gone, so do you think the kitchens are hiding the good meals? I wouldn't be surprised if they gave us this slop on purpose.

[Breakfast Conspiracy]

II. fire time

A. incompetent magic fumbling
[Of course Emil is going to the exploded building. He sets fires for a living, true, this is not his usual ballpark, but setting fires comes with knowledge of how to deal with fires, and so he'll at least be some help here, he thinks. Somehow, some way, in this city that's big and confusing and won't let him just crawl back into the nice bed— ugh!! Whatever!

He's going and that's what counts, as soon as... magic... makes sense? He's standing there, and he's got his Purple Dusk jewel thing, and he's been told how to do this, but he's got nothing. Nothing's happening. He's completely lost.]

Hey— [hi, hey, listen to him] Did you get any of that? I didn't.


B. actual action time
[His heart is in the right place once things really require it, in his defense - but he's not adept at search and rescue, as such. His overall strategy seems to be "run around" with a side of "shout until someone shouts back," with a healthy helping of talking to himself and talking to bits of the building as it starts to fall apart around them. He'll start talking to the Breaker he's toting next, so please be a sentient being he can shout at.]

Where— [Where are you going next? he starts to ask, voice still raised over the sounds of the fire and the building groaning around them, and then an especially loud and nasty creak drowns out the rest of his sentence. His gaze darts up to a beam overhead, and- ah-] Look out!

[Is he going to have to run and tackle?? He's 5'5" but don't worry, he can knock you the hell down. Don't die from falling beams!!]

III. wildcard

[hello yes do you want a specific starter? do you want to pm me or pp jojoveller? please do! i'm Open]

forcing lalli to go shopping: the thread

[illequipped]

[It's been a long day and, frankly, it's been terrible. Emil's going to have soot in his hair and on his clothes and everywhere for weeks, which is frankly unacceptable now that they've made it out of the barren wilderness. He spends, no lie, a good hour locked in the bathroom washing his hair like four times, and when he finally emerges he is still in a Mood over the state of his clothes. Why couldn't their hosts give them free clothes, too? The food was terrible so the clothes would obviously be worse, but it would have been polite.

His only... comfort, if it is that, is that Lalli is here too, to be petty and complain with him. It's late; he's exhausted, and Lalli is probably more, but after such an action-packed and Terrible day, what Emil wants is to do something. He's restless; being in a new place like this is stressful and worrying and he doesn't know how to handle any of it, he's already figured out! Things are exploding? They apparently aren't even supposed to be here despite that dream, so now he has to wonder just what's going to happen to them, and—

And he'd rather not address anything emotionally difficult or stressful yet, so it's time to Do Something. Specifically, it's time for Lalli to come with him for this purpose. What is Lalli doing at this hour? He better still be awake, it's only evening and Emil is Here, nudging at him for attention. Hey, hi. Listen to him.]

Lalli, let's go see the shops.

[Will this calm Emil down? Maybe not, but he'll get to buy things with that stipend and won't have to resort to pacing around the room.]

[shiftinglikeclay]

ii. blackout

[No need to air walk when you can fly. Alex still has (too many) questions about everything, but that doesn't mean she's going to refuse to help in an obvious emergency. So it's an owl that dives towards where people are gathering, and that changes back to human form just as Alex hits the ground.]

Getting people out has to be the first concern.

[She practically snatches a breaker out of someone's hands, and looks around.]

Water. And something to put over our faces. Gods, where's Magnus when you need him?

[One of the landens passes her a soaked cloth which she immediately ties around her nose and mouth before heading into the plant. It's every bit as hot and terrible as she feared, but if there are people trapped, she wants to get them out. Through the smoke and heat haze, she sees another rescuer. Time is of the essence, and they'll work faster together, so she waves an arm trying to catch the other person's attention.]

overall plans
[Alex is getting out of the Queen's Residence ASAP, and moving into the least damaged abandoned house she can find. She's also going to try to find a pottery studio that'll hire her to fund food and other necessities, though feel free to run across her scrounging in trash cans and such for food and supplies.

He'll also be out and about talking to the natives, especially the landens and the other Strangers, so feel free to run across him pretty much anywhere.

Or hit me up at palmedfire for whatever!]

"oh my what a surprising coincidence" the food-delivery thread

[illequipped]

[Or: the first time Emil notices Alex looking into trash cans for who knows what, he's too surprised to say anything to her— and maybe that would be strange? "Hi, remember me, weird few days we're having haha why are you digging in the garbage???"

Somehow, he thinks it wouldn't go over well. So, instead, he resolves to be prepared the next time! Which actually means that the following day he packs some extra breakfast into a little makeshift lunchbox made out of folded napkins and goes out to try and find Alex a second time. But like, casually.

This time, he clears his throat to announce his presence, and then puts on airs like he's very surprised to have run into her here!! Whoa!

But when it comes time to, like, say something...]

Ah— hey!

[incredible 10/10]

[championbittersweet]

Strangers in a Strange Land
Jonathan hadn't spent too much time at breakfast in the past, usually retiring to his room before the sun rose and allowing people to think what they will of his strange habit of only appearing when the sun had gone down again. Truthfully he had found it difficult to focus as much on such concerns now; his hunger had been markedly stronger since his arrival and more difficult to ignore. He had been given permission to hunt animals as he preferred, but Jonathan had found even a deer did little to sate him for more than an evening or so and he was well aware that hunting as he needed would only cause a greater drain on the livestock than could be met. Rats in the palace had helped somewhat, and although he was loathe to feed on vermin at least it wasn't a new experience, but even their numbers were starting to dwindle faster than expected.

It was a situation he had limited experience in dealing with and the other options he didn't even wish to consider. So, for now, he ignored it and focused instead on the problems at hand that he was familiar with. People and the current situation in the palace. It hadn't escaped his attention that the Queen had been surprised by the new arrivals, just as it hadn't escaped his attention that the food quality had dropped significantly. Regardless if it was the palace itself that had the problem or a greater one, he could not imagine that more hungry mouths to feed would help much at all.

Keeping that in mind, Jonathan lingered away from the windows of the dining hall, leaning back against a wall as he watched the crowd of people for anyone who might look particularly lost or confused and need some help. It didn't occur to him that he might also seem as though he himself needed some assistance; he was always somewhat pale after his rebirth but now he seemed almost sickly and gaunt from hunger, veins and reddish bruising visible around his pale eyes.

Absently, he reached into his coat for a battered packet of tobacco and papers and started rolling a cigarette automatically before noticing someone was watching him.

"I apologise, did you want one?"


Death of a Councilwoman - probably gonna lead to fighting
Allairavar started off after the young man and in the back of his mind Jonathan knows that he should do as the Warlord Prince directed. He should try to help and ensure that this situation does not get considerably out of hand. But all he can focus on is the spreading red stain on the woman's clothing and the smell of it is like a blow to his senses. It's thick and rich and pulls at him and he can feel his fangs lengthening in his mouth.

A grunt of something not unlike pain leaves him and Jonathan squints and turns his head away struggling to keep his jaw clenched shut as his vision dims to shadow only punctuated by the bright reddish lines of heat around him, thumping hearts and veins rushing with blood. He can hardly hear anything over the sound of it and reaches out blindly for the wrist of the person next to him.

"I can't- I can't stay here, I'm so hungry..."

Death of Councilwoman

[stickypete]

[It all happened so fast, enough that Peter is cursing himself for not reacting fast enough. But he'd barely seen the landen through the crowd and by the time he's even close to being able to run him down Allairavar is already racing after him.]

[For a moment, Peter tries to figure out what to do - he could websling and see if he can get an aerial view. He could try to help the Councilwoman, but people already are dealing with that. He could help keep the crowds from rioting. But then Jonathan is clinging to his wrist, fairly tightly, and acting...weird.]

Oookay. Don't know what about this situation is making it so you've got a craving, but maybe we can go take care of that.

[Peter decides there are enough people working on keeping the crowds under control that he can focus on Jonathan. Maybe he's lightheaded from seeing the violence and thinks he needs a jolt to his blood sugar.]

[But there is a slight niggling suspicion. The blood blooming on the Councilwoman's chest, the good doctor's pale skin. It reminds him of someone he once knew. But it can't be, can it? What are the chances?]

[Peter tugs a little bit, intent on leading him away to a nearby alley, away from the crowds, planning on figuring out whatever his problem is there. Bare minimum he looks like he's maybe going to faint and it's probably better Peter takes care of him somewhere less crowded.].

Do you need to get away from the crowd? Maybe sit down for a minute? You're looking peaky.

[kesi]

i. strange people strange lands

[The difference in food quality was noticeable but not worth complaining about, nor did it occur to Takame to dwell upon the circumstances that caused it. It was there to restore energy, especially after early rounds of drills, and it fit that purpose fine. What caught his eye the most was not only the number of new faces that had made themselves known, but also the reaction of the Queen and her stewards gave to them. Something was off. Did the Queen’s last summoning not send her into a weakened, near death state? Was this safe for her?

No… that was not for him to question. And yet... was he not free to ask now?

Rather than act upon that desire, one might find the Au Ra wandering the breakfast area seeming to looking for a seat among all the many residents. He was pacing, really. Occasionally glancing towards where the few of the Court were. And after they left his gaze didn’t shift from where they went off to, hardly eating his food anymore, just tapping his fingers at a bruised apple he'd half finished and mumbling something to himself.]

It wasn't... [When he wasn't looking their way, he stared into space but it also looked like he was staring at someone else. Maybe whoever decided to sit and eat with him?]

ii. blackout

[It took little more than Loren’s psychic touch before Takame rushed to the scene of the explosion. Even if he did not know the fastest route, he would get there eventually by seeking out where the plume of smoke rose from. The mental map given and the guide to walk through the air expedited the process significantly.

When he arrived at the scene, he took one look at how disheveled Doriah looked, took in her words as best he could, and ran straight into the plant. If his directive was to search and evacuate and that was what he would do without fail.

With no regard for the fact that he wore Purple Dusk thinking use of his blade would be enough to push through and less idea of how to use the Breaker properly having only seen use of weapons like it second hand. The only hint of retrospect in this one is the fact that he remembered this time to cover his nose and mouth with a scarf.

He did quite literally push through, using his keen sight to seek out plant workers to rescue, bumping into a fellow stranger and not even considering that he had. Spotting a small group trapped in Green half concealed behind a fallen beam, he gestured in that direction in a way that looked like it was towards the other person.]

There. [Wow, he's specific. Even better since he doesn't even stop and explain what he means and just goes forward anyway as if he wasn't talking to someone at all. Follow him?]

iii. wildcard

[[ he'll be at the aftermath of death of a councilwoman if you wanted to come up with something for that. and he'll probably linger even longer than that. but i'm down for whatever, hit me up on plurk @ bonpuns!. ]]

i

[arrogator]

[Mordred's not really thrilled about the change in breakfast either. Or the new faces. Something's up, and she hasn't put a ton of thought into what, partially because she doesn't have a clue what's going on also partially trying to avoid drawing comparisons to things from her past. And in trying not to think about things, she notices this guy staring off into space and saying something.]

It wasn't what?

[She'd ask what the hell he's staring at, but making conversation seems like a better option.]

[thedarkbond]

[a: strangers in a strange land]

(i.)
[Dreams and reality meeting isn't an unfamiliar thing to Ren, so he'd treated that encounter as if it might be something real, as he would any other dream. And he's glad, now, that he did, because waking up in another world entirely would certainly have been a lot more troubling if he hadn't.

As such, he's probably going to be one of the...brighter faces at the breakfast table. He's definitely a little thrown by this even having assumed the dream wasn't simply a dream, but his usual reaction to being thrown by things is to fix his innocent smile right back on and dive into it headfirst. So once he's done pouring himself a not-inconsiderable amount of extremely black coffee, he offers the pot on to someone else.] Did you want some of this too...?

(ii.)

[After breakfast, with the sheer amount of movement and talk happening, Ren figures there's a chance of picking up a little more about what's going on. Especially from the woman who'd said this wasn't supposed to happen...lingering too obviously might draw attention, though, so he takes a subtler route.

The subtler route being finding a section of floor that looks a bit uneven and letting his natural clumsiness take the reins for a minute.

As such, anyone leaving a bit later than the rest might come across a man with long red hair sprawled on the ground near one of the doors, reluctantly working himself upright and rubbing a hand against the back of his head, but with his ear turned slightly towards Fayura and her associates.] Mmm, that was silly of me, wasn't it...?

--

[b: black out]

(i.)

[Physical rescue work is not Ren's forte. But he is absolutely not going to stand out here and let people die while he could be trying to do something about it, so after a somewhat acerbic and very quick lesson from Doriah in how to use a breaker, and finding somewhere he can dampen his jacket to use it as at least a basic face mask, he heads into the inferno. It won't last him long, but it's better than nothing, and he's going to have enough to figure out on the fly here.

Thankfully, he has considerable experience with shaping his imagination into reality, so the simple craft of shielding comes to him quite easily, and the air walking occurs to him not long after, once he notices the deeper heat starting to work its way through his shoes. The colour of his shield, Purple Dusk, might mark him out to others in the blaze as someone capable of assisting with the shields of that level, but as it is, he's focusing his attention ahead as much as he can, moving forward and trying not to think too hard about the tiredness that's going to be eating at him the longer this goes on.

If he sees someone ahead, though, he may call forward, in a significantly more serious and grounded tone than the one he was wearing at breakfast earlier.] Is there something over there? Or someone?

(ii.)

[Actually finding some of the shielded humans himself is enough to make what little is visible of Ren's face twist with disgust, eyes narrowing visibly. He's done some nasty things to people who didn't deserve it, but this is beyond the kind of thing he'd imagine on anyone short of his worst enemy.

Lifting the Breaker in his hand slightly in preparedness, he first tries reaching out towards the shield with his own craft if it's Purple Dusk or lower. However, he doesn't have any experience with shield breaking with craft yet, so if he sees any other signs of movement, he'll quickly turn his head towards it with an assertive sort of urgency in his eyes.]

If you know the quickest way to break through one of these shields with craft, I'd be grateful to hear it right now.

[[OOC note: Since each person can only save 3 workers, I'm planning to have Ren aim for two Purple Dusk or lower shielded people and one Green with the Breaker. After three tag-ins for that, I'll have him more in a support role for anyone who's doing their own saving thing (so helping clear their way or guide them or potentially lending them the Breaker), or you can state in your tag-in that you'd prefer him as support for that rescue!]]

--

[c: wildcard]

[[If you want to plot something more specific, feel free to grab me over at the OOC plotting post or at reviseleviathan!]]

strangers in a strange land i

[inducings]

Thank you. [ She's not normally much of a coffee drinker, but Piper has a feeling that today will be the sort of day better faced with caffeine than without it. She pours herself about half a cup of coffee and then reaches for the milk to fill in the other half.

...she's not sure she's ever seen a guy with hair that long and that red before. ]

Jon Snow | OTA

[song_of_ice]

STRANGERS IN A STRANGE LAND

[Whether this was a dream or not, Jon at least had a few thoughts in mind going forward. First, he didn't find much of the food appetizing, at least not at the moment. His mind was still focused on home and doing whatever he needed here, not on how beautiful the spread might be or how rich the food was.

The idea of leaving the palace was tantalizing, as he preferred his privacy, but the idea of earning coin was a bit strange to him. Exercises, drills, he could accept that as he had been in the Night's Watch, but a trade? It was a bit baffling to even think what he could do.]

How is it you earn coin here?

[BLACK OUT]

[Jon ignored how disconcerting it is to have something mentally projected in his mind, communicating with him as easily as speaking. Instead he charged ahead towards the blaze, accepting the strange objects from Doriah in the process. He somehow doubted he'd need them. Wearing green added to his confidence, already strong from being in a familiar situation.

Chaos had a way of doing that.

Spotting another Stranger nearby, he shouted at them.]

Here, get as close as you can. I'll go in and break the shields and bring out the survivors. You get them to safety.

[DEATH OF A COUNCIL WOMAN]

[He's rooted by the sudden explosion and the fallen body of the woman. This wasn't the first death or murder he's seen, no matter how senseless, but it was the first gun he'd witnessed. It was a different thing to charge at someone wielding a blade, but some foreign weapon he didn't know? He hesitated, one of the few moments of sense in the heat of violence he had.

But as soon as the man took off running, Jon was quick behind. There was someone else at his heels, close and catching up in speed.]

Is there any way to keep him from firing that thing at us?

black out

[theladyofwinterfell]

( Sansa had come to the power plant in hopes that she could at least help nurse the injured after they were pulled from danger. She wears the Purple Dusk, so she could possibly help fetch men and bring them out but the thought of it petrifies her. She isn't one to go into danger, not this sort, and she doesn't think she could be a true help within the plant itself.

When she hears someone call to her, it takes her a moment to realize it's Jon. They've not spoken since their argument and Sansa is still seething over it but if anyone can rally men and provide aid, it's Jon. She's willing to put their differences aside temporarily to help under his guidance. )

I won't go within the plant itself, brother. I don't want to get injured but if you could bring the men here, I could start trying to tend wounds.

[portable]

strangers in a strange land;

[ good morning, new arrivals! despite his self-imposed insistence on learning independence, parado has not yet moved out of the queen's residence. he isn't a fan of the routine, but he also isn't at all sure which way he should take himself to move out without stranding himself or starving (needing to eat was so inconvenient), so here he remains.

the new faces at the breakfast table have him scanning the room carefully for anyone he knows. once again he finds himself tapping at his chest like he's trying to attune it to something, but when nothing changes, he bites rather roughly into the bread he was holding. he looks put out, as if he was expecting something only to be let down.

later, he might end up reaching over you for the coffee, or you may find him going on a quest to find more sugar. his table seems to have run out. ]

'Scuse me. Are you using that?

a tale of two ideals;

black out 1
[ fire again.

parado chooses to ignore the airwalking tutorial for now, instead teleporting in bursts to approach the problem area. as a result of his slightly quicker travel, he's seemingly one of the first to arrive. the red jewel around his neck winks in the flames, and he isn't even offered a breaker - his strength is in an obvious place, clear as day.

if you arrive early too, you'll find parado out the front of the burning building, coat billowing behind him as he assesses the situation as best he can. he's half talking to himself, and half taking to whomever is around. ]

Getting the workers out is the first priority. Anything else comes later, okay? [ a pause ] But just in case, is anyone like, actually good with technology or engineering?

black out 2
[ not long after that, if you're lucky, you can watch him transform before heading into the building. reaching into his coat pockets, he pulls out a bulky belt and a strange cartridge of some kind, inserting the cartridge into the belt and holding a pose. ]

Max Dai Henshin.

[ oh yeah, that's a flashy transformation sequence right there. ]

black out 3
[ as a result, later inside, you'll instead run into a brightly coloured suit of armour(???) moving about the facility using a combination of airwalking and pixelly teleporting. parado seemed to have figured out that his rider suit's helmet was equipped with a pretty decent air filter. it didn't really help the weirdly sticky feeling the smoke left when he teleported, though, so he's favouring the airwalking for now.

he's come across a pair trapped behind green shields, in a particularly flame-filled area. they don't have long, one already passed out. the burning debris has enclosed them, and even with parado able to break the shield or clear the path, he can't do both with enough time to get both trapped workers out safely. ]

Hey, someone help me out! There's people stuck in here!

[ his voice carries easily, though slightly echo-y through his helmet. ]

wildcard;

(( start your own prompt, see him doing other things during or post-power plant rescue, or hit me up at yagyuu to talk something out! ))

black out 2

[arrogator]

Whoa, what the hell was that?!

[Yeah, sorry, she has no other reaction. On paper it isn't entirely dissimilar from how she summons her armor, but it's also completely different and super garish...but also kind of cool. Not that she'll say as much. And now's not really the time to be standing here, her mouth hanging open in surprise at this, but it's all so very very strange and unexpected.]

[midship]

i. science fiction double feature

[There's nothing quite so disorienting as having slept enough to dream. Or, well-- perhaps that's unfair. It's very slightly more disorienting to wake up from having slept enough to dream to discover oneself somehow waking into the dream as much as anything else.

Still, at least there's coffee.

More than that, there's the faint comfort of not being entirely alone in his confusion. Other faces look as groggy and baffled as Horatio feels. Other voices murmuring over breakfast have that lost edge to their tone that echoes in Horatio's own thoughts.

And, best of all, no one seems to mind when he takes a second cup of coffee. They might not even stop him from taking a third. That's enough to brighten anyone's mood. By the time they're told there will be training? First thing in the morning? Horatio is positively contented enough to actually murmur to the person next to him:] Rather wonderful, isn't it.

ii. your scalding face

[One of his fellow Strangers had all but physically dragged him to the blackout despite a long stretch of unsure footing. The mass of them had swarmed into the inferno, falling into an odd tangle of half-coordinated rescue efforts. Another Stranger had dragged him from the flames when the dizziness of the smoke had begun to seep too deeply into his lungs and the ache of his burns had become difficult to ignore.

But, now he's been dragged out, someone really ought to stop him from stumbling his way back in. Physically, most likely. It won't take much, the way he's already staggering. Gentle shove on the back probably ought to do it.]

iii. time enough for countin'

[All in all, it's been an interesting beginning to a new life. Not quite as undignified as Spithead had been, if one had to make a tally of all the points of absolute mortification that had occurred in each instance.

It's still all a bit addling. It still helps to have something familiar to fall back on, if only for a few little quiet moments stolen here and there throughout the day.

The world still hasn't quite settled back down into itself since the explosion and assassination. The tension is distinct from the previous unease; less like the strange quiet moments at home and more like the exhausted quiet of Muzillac or Ferrol. It almost seems to be buzzing in his ears, needing to be drowned out to stop it from echoing in his own mind.

Thank goodness for being able to scrounge up a deck of cards. Shuffling them is wonderfully familiar, the motions coming as quickly and easily now as they had back in the Marquis's rooms. It's hardly as satisfying as playing an actual game, but the rhythmic flow of cards back and forth between his hands is enough of a focal point to properly clear some small portions of his mind.]

iv. wildcard

[You can catch Horatio up before training, devoting himself wholeheartedly to training, or attempting to avoid becoming caught in any social situations during most of the rest of the day--or whatever else we've discussed and I've forgotten in a fit of sleepiness! Feel free to hit me up on the plotting thread or pm or plurk!]

iii. c a r d s

[theladyofwinterfell]

( Sansa is familiar enough with Horatio, after having assisted him with the Craft class and seeing him at breakfasts in the Queen's residence. She isn't familiar with this sort of card game, she doesn't think, but she's played enough parlor games in her day. She settles in a chair across from him. )

Which game are you setting up for, my lord?

OTA

[hardlyanangel]

I. Strangers in Strange Land

The change in the breakfast did not bother much. After all she had subsided on much worse for far longer, though that was another story.

While not aloof, and rather polite when interacting with those attending, Aithne settled in a solitary spot. New faces were about and some she had not seen since that first arrival. A curious thing.

Her porridge and dried fruit consumed, she sipped her coffee and tore at her bread.





II. Death of a Council Woman


Aithne had a habit to walk through the city outside the castle. Often times cloaked due to the weather, and the partial anonymity it gave her. She wanted to see and understand the situation better with her own eyes. And it was dire in many ways. And that is how she found herself on the street just as the altercation between the mass of landens and Councilwoman Vera’s entourage began.

At first she was going to simply observe but something seemed off and she moved closer. And then words became action as the landens, somehow separate the woman from the rest. Now she was in the crowd, working her way closer to the center of the matter. Every instinct she had said this was not a good situation.

Just as she was almost close enough to intervene the shot rang out and her wings instinctively clasped around her.

That was not right. They were dismissed…Aithne unfastened the broach of the cloak and let it drop, her right hand dropping to the hilt of her still sheathed sword as she scanned both the groups, then glancing to the woman struck on the ground, already too far gone for anything she could do. The crowd parts and the apparent assassin was a young man, and from his reaction was his first kill, or possibly something else that caused his shaking hands.

If there were any reactions to her true appearance she ignored them as she started to move when the crowd parted. Allairavar, is noted as well as he command, there is enough to handle his aim, though this. This did not set right, especially given the ability of the landens to suppress their Jewels.

“Do as he says, for your own sake if nothing else.” As the Valkyrie pushes through the mass and beats her wings hard to get off the ground. Harder than it should be, and she was slower, though her wings served her well to keep her high enough to ensure her sharp eyes wouldn’t lose track of the young one.

Gently, for this is something new to her, and others may hear as well. “I have him Allairavar, he just ran in an alley. Be wary.”

( prompt i. )

[sunborne]

Aaaand here comes a giant robot, making their way to her table as they try to carefully hold a tray of their share of breakfast. Due to their size and their colouring, they're definitely one of the new faces to this place.

"Hi there!" They - he, actually, judging by the voice - wave at her in greeting. Or try to. He really doesn't want to spill their food. "Can I sit with you? There's a lot of space here and, um, it'll be nice to have my winglets get some breathing room."